


Into The Chamber

by Aria_Breuer



Series: The Hobbit Wizards [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, The Lord of the Rings (Movies), The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Authors and Authoresses, Book 2: Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets, Chamber of Secrets, Crossover, Diagon Alley Second Year, Drama, F/M, Family, Friendship, Gen, Giant Spiders, Hogwarts Second Year, Humor, Pre-War of the Ring, Spiders
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-21
Updated: 2016-06-08
Packaged: 2018-04-22 19:31:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 26
Words: 62,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4847606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aria_Breuer/pseuds/Aria_Breuer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the wake of his parents' boating accident, Frodo Baggins becomes an orphan almost overnight. On top of this, Frodo encounters a House-elf who claims to belong to him, but was previously under the ownership of Frodo's father, Drogo Baggins. Frodo's return to Hogwarts won't be easy, what with the Chamber of Secrets opening.</p><p>Hoping to resolve this issue, before more Muggle-borns are endangered, Frodo teams up with Harry, Ron, Hermione and his authoress. However, Draco Malfoy and Lotho Sackville-Baggins are likely suspects on who may have opened up the Chamber of Secrets.</p><p>The anticipated sequel to <i>The Rival Houses</i>, and the first sequel of this series. A crossover between <i>The Lord of the Rings</i> and <i>Harry Potter</i>. Set during the Pre-War of the Ring era and during "The Chamber of Secrets".</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Visit to Brandy Hall

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to TooLazyToLogIn for the idea that started this series. Information on Brandy Hall can be found on The Lord of the Rings Wiki, but also in _The Lord of the Rings_ book trilogy.

 

“Darling, your jacket is in the parlor, where you left it last!” called Primula Brandybuck-Baggins to her husband Drogo. They were running a little late for the Brandybuck family gathering. It was taking place inside the grandest smial found in Buckland, called Brandy Hall.

Drogo, a portly gentle-hobbit with a respectable air, rushed into the parlor without a second thought. His brown vest, inlayed with gold flower designs, was a little lopsided over his white dress shirt. Slowly putting on his jacket over his vest, Drogo absentmindedly stared at his twelve-year-old son, Frodo Baggins. Sometimes Frodo could be a hassle, as he proved the previous school year to them and to those at Hogwarts.

Frodo, when he first began his education at the wizard school, was a runt, according to his height. That had changed, as Frodo now stood close to being above Drogo’s stomach. Frodo had fairer skin, due to his Fallohide blood on his mother’s side, and fair features; some hobbits claimed he had the physique of one of the tall elves of Middle-earth, if they ever met one up close. Like all hobbits, Frodo had curly brown hair on his head and the tops of his feet. His natural personality was one of perkiness and cheek; the cheekiness he shared was perhaps due to his love for pranks and getting into trouble on a frequent basis. Farmer Maggot claimed he was something of a rascal, for Frodo had a habit of trespassing on his land, just to steal some mushrooms.

But Frodo couldn’t steal mushrooms that morning. This being his fourth day back home, since his first year at Hogwarts ended four days ago, Frodo had agreed to attend a family gathering at Brandy Hall. It was his parents’ request, but if it meant Frodo would reunite with his cousins, aunt and uncle at his uncle’s grand smial – a name given to a luxurious home the hobbits built and lived in under hills – then he wouldn’t miss this opportunity.

Curious as to how Frodo Baggins could attend Hogwarts? As it happened, Frodo learned the previous year that he was a hobbit wizard. If one thought Frodo was unusual before, him being a wizard certainly set the stakes higher. At the end of his first year, Frodo had mastered the basics of wand-waving, Transfiguration, and hand magic. Of course, due to his detention with his Charms teacher, Filius Flitwick, Frodo had managed learning how to use his hands, instead of a wand, to perform magic. Although he used a wand for potion-making, Frodo relied more on his hands for magical means. He was also quite able to turn himself invisible if he wanted, or extend his reach to one other person; in this instance, near the end of his first year at Hogwarts, was to his authoress Aria Breuer.

Dawn rose in the Shire, but it was early enough for Frodo and his parents to make their preparations for their trip to Brandy Hall. Frodo’s mother fussing with him was nothing compared to what he just experienced. Sure, he had a fun year: playing pranks with Fred and George Weasley, or even Meriadoc Brandybuck and Peregrin Took – Merry and Pippin for short, respectively; going to class and learning new spells from his teachers, who were experts at the craft; hanging out with Aria Breuer, whether doing study sessions or simply to chat with her. He missed a lot of things Hogwarts had to offer, including stopping by Hagrid’s hut to chat with the giant of a man.

While he did miss the excitement of pranking Slytherin students, there was his adventurous side. Together with Harry Potter, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger, and dragging Aria along for the ride – even though he was certain she had gotten braver and quite enjoyed the experience, up until the last part, the five discovered the defenses put up for the Sorcerer’s Stone: a power object that, when united with the Elixir of Life, would make the drinker immortal. Aside from the Stone, Harry, Frodo and Aria learned Professor Quirinus Quirrell, Harry and Frodo’s Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, and Professor Angora Cherryhill, his A Hobbit’s Introduction to Magic teacher and Aria’s writing teacher, had been possessed by Voldemort and Sauron respectively. Frodo, Aria and Harry were fortunate to have survived the encounter. In turn, Frodo gained recognition from his peers, putting him in league with Harry and making him more known throughout the wizard school.

Now, Frodo’s only struggle was his mother fussing over him, making sure his nice, clean white dress shirt was tucked in, his vest was buttoned up properly, and the collar of his jacket and dress shirt were adjusted. Naturally, Frodo was being cheeky. He loved his mother Primula with all his heart – he even named his female brown owl after her namesake flower – but sometimes the fussing was a bit too much.

“Mama, it’s fine!” cried Frodo, annoyed and flustered.

Drogo put his word in, defending his son and telling his wife, “If Frodo says it is fine then it is fine.”

Frodo admired and respected his father Drogo, but felt concerned for his health. While he didn’t always point it out, there were times when Frodo wished his father didn’t pack on too much weight. Frodo had always been thin. He didn’t mind: being thin was one of his perks.

Frustrated, Drogo said to his wife, “Primula, let’s go! We’re late as it is.”

Primula finished her fussing. Resting her hands on Frodo’s arms, Primula said, gently, “There. I think you’re ready.”

Sighing in relief, Frodo said to his mother, keeping a calm demeanor, “Thanks.”

A tear shed down Primula’s face. Wiping the tear off her cheek, Primula gazed at her son. She spoke in a motherly fashion, “Well… Frodo, you’re about to turn thirteen in three months.”

“Thirteen’s a big step,” said Drogo, chiming in.

“Your father and I only want what’s best for you,” said Primula.

 _Not_ this lecture… at least, not for a third time in a row. Frodo inquired at once, hoping to redeem himself and recover some footing, “I know, mum, dad.” He was amazed how calm he was behaving to his parents. He repeated, gently, “I know.” He said next, “It’s just… and I know it’s been four days since I saw Aria. I just want to know how she’s doing, and my friends.”

“The post must be slow,” said Drogo.

Primula asked Frodo, concerned, “You haven’t gotten any letters?”

“I have from my friends,” said Frodo. “Not yet from Aria.”

Drogo shrugged. “Then perhaps she’s busy.”

Frodo lowered his head, a frown smeared across his face. Four days was too long not to send any reply. Did Aria forget to write? What was she doing now? He recalled her traveling with the other hobbits’ authors and authoresses’ students to who was their Head of House. Maybe the Head of House was keeping Aria on her toes, while staying at this Authors’ House.

Primula returned her gaze to her son. She gave him the only piece of encouragement she had towards this matter, “I’m sure she’ll write. If not, then…”

“What?” Frodo asked. Realizing what his mother was about to tell him, Frodo said in return, doing his best to keep his hopes up, “Aria will write. I know she will. She wouldn’t give up on me.” He said, in an effort to keep calm, “She wouldn’t forget to write.”

Drogo changed the subject, as if to end their conversation with a reminder: “We should leave now, while we still have dawn’s light.”

Primula nodded. She asked Frodo, “Are you ready?”

Frodo nodded in silence. Maybe it was best not to rush the mail. Besides, he did not know where the Authors’ House was located. Even if he was excited and determined to receive Aria’s letter, Frodo wondered how that letter would pass through time and space. Perhaps he wouldn’t receive the answers he needed. It was hard to say, but more so now that he was headed to Brandy Hall. How would Aria know where to send her letter, let alone have her tawny owl Hedwer deliver this letter to the right address? He did not know whether this was possible.

o-o-o

Brandy Hall, hence its name, was a smial built under a low hill in Buckland. For its namesake, it was home to the Brandybuck family, and for a good reason. The smial had been expanded as the family grew, with three large front-doors, many side-doors, and hundreds of windows.* When Drogo, Primula and Frodo drew closer to the grand smial, Drogo drove the cart they borrowed from Primula’s brother, Rorimac Brandybuck, their nostrils whiffed the scent of sausages cooking in, they assumed, a large pan.

Drogo’s mouth watered. His voice rose as he spoke to his wife and son, “Mmm hm, something’s cooking! It smells good, good enough to eat.”

Primula hushed him, “Oh Drogo…”

Frodo chuckled for a moment; by then, his stomach growled. His face flushed red with embarrassment. Primula understood her son’s need for food, as they hadn’t had any meals since first breakfast, which was a couple of hours prior to smelling the cooked sausages. Drogo stopped the pony in front of Brandy Hall. Rorimac approached his relatives. He pulled out a fresh-picked apple from his pocket, handing the apple to his sorrel blonde pony. The pony ate the apple greedily, grateful to have a morning treat.

Climbing down from the driver’s seat, Primula declared, “Rory, so good to see you.”

“And to you, sis,” said Rory, smiling. “How’s Frodo doing? What has he been up to these days?”

Drogo whispered in Rory’s ear, “We’ll speak inside. It’s a matter of urgency involving the Sackville-Bagginses… the S.B.s.”

Rory nodded, but mumbled his concern, “The Sackville-Bagginses live in Hobbiton, Drogo. Still, I consider them a problem. If they haven’t caused trouble, neither shall we.”

Esmeralda Brandybuck, Frodo’s aunt, called from one of the kitchen windows, “Second breakfast is almost ready!” She gasped, staring at Frodo in mild-amusement. “Is that Frodo? My, my, how you’ve grown.” She added, stating matter-of-factly, “Last I saw you, you were down to my waist.”

Frodo thought he was the only one concerned with height. But how could his aunt see… oh, never mind. He was certain she knew how much he’d grown. Frodo called back, waving to his aunt, “Hullo Aunt Esmeralda.”

“Well, come inside!” said Esmeralda, gesturing inside. “The food is almost ready. We wouldn’t want it going to waste.” She moved away from the window, returning to the kitchen to complete her work.

Rory faced Primula’s family. Cracking a grin, Rory said, “Well, you heard my daughter-in-law.”

“Get your pack, Frodo,” said Drogo to his son.

Frodo agreed without question. Grabbing his pack, filled with his necessities and clothes, Frodo sprung towards the front door Rory had opened for Frodo and his parents. He gave a warm, friendly greeting to Rory, “Hullo Uncle Rory!” and entered the abode with very little collision.

This was going to be a good visit, something he missed since attending Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Now, he was going to enjoy every minute he shared with his relatives, the Brandybucks.


	2. A Shocking Revelation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ideas for this chapter came from DoctorWhovian18, who is over on Fanfiction.net, and Frodo Baggins.

Stepping inside Brandy Hall was like waking up in Hogwarts, at least in Frodo’s mind… and now that he thought on it, not as cold as the castle usually was throughout the four seasons. Almost every room was large, homely and welcoming, except by the many doors that persisted to separate nearly all the rooms inside the smial. Frodo, of course, had the notion in his head that he wanted to explore, not leaving Brandy Hall until he checked every nook and cranny the hobbit-hole had to offer.

Drogo told his brother-in-law, “Gorbadoc would be pleased. He was always a good host.”

Rory said, reminiscing, “Yes he was. I can remember this one time when he used to serve us whole racks of steak. There would be none left by the time we finished them.” He laughed merrily at the memory of his father, now long since passed away.

Frodo asked his mother, “Can I explore?”

Primula turned to her brother and said, “Rory, why don’t you show Frodo where he’ll be sleeping.” It wasn’t a question.

Rory nodded, understanding. “Right.” Facing Frodo, Rory said to him, “Come on, Frodo. Let’s go and see your room.”

Frodo asked, curiously, “Do I still get the same room?” as he followed his Uncle Rory down the next hallway.

Rory laughed, joyfully, “Yes Frodo.”

Frodo sighed, but it was a very soft sigh. Although he didn’t mind much, the question still formed in his mind. But now that question was answered. He replied, “That’s good.”

“And your parents get your mother’s old bedroom, but don’t tell her that,” said Rory, murmuring loudly.

Primula said, aloud, “You know I heard that.”

Drogo chuckled. “Yes Primula. We know you did.”

Frodo grinned to himself. He did love his father; this was one moment in which he wondered if he inherited his cheeky side from his dad. It was quite possible.

Following his Uncle Rory down a long hallway with doors on either side, Frodo stopped when his uncle led him into one of the guest rooms, where the round-shaped door had been left open. The guest room was fairly large; this was perhaps due to the Hogwarts wardrobe that, with the large Hogwarts’ symbol on the front pair of doors, was found in the room, by the king-sized bed. There was also a separate dresser, plants in vases, a table that stood on the other side of the bed, and a small bookcase by the door. Frodo was reminded of Bag End, but also his parents’ hobbit-hole due to the way the room was set up. Just seeing the Hogwarts’ emblem on the wardrobe, he had grown so accustomed to seeing reminded Frodo of the school and how much he missed it, even if that time was for one day.

Rory told Frodo, beside himself upon seeing the wardrobe, “That wardrobe arrived just this morning, before you and your parents arrived. Dumbledore must know you’re here; although, I don’t know why.”

Frodo was stunned. He asked Rory, “Dumbledore? You know Dumbledore?”

Rory let out a chuckle. “The whole Brandybuck family knows who Dumbledore is. You were given that note, I’m sure, about not being allowed to use magic except around those who are your family, I presume.”

“The note said…” Frodo remembered now: the note not only said his parents, but also his relatives that knew about magic. How he assumed it was only his parents’ house… well, maybe that was mainly for when he was at home. Blushing at the thought, Frodo said, “Well, maybe you’re right.”

Two hoots sounded in the room, but as Frodo looked about him, he wondered where the hoots were coming from. Staring at the wall at the same time as his Uncle Rory, out from a rainbow-lit portal flew out a male tawny owl. Frodo recognized the owl: he was Hedwer and he belonged to Aria Breuer, his friend and authoress. In Hedwer’s beak was a sealed envelope, which he plopped on the table after perching on a small branch-like podium. Minding Hedwer’s wide-eyed gaze and screech, Frodo took the envelope from the table.

Rory, noticing the envelope, asked his nephew, “Whose it from?”

Frodo peered up at his uncle, informing him with enthusiasm, “It’s from Aria, my friend and authoress. Hedwer – this tawny owl here – belongs to her.”

Rory chuckled. Seeing Frodo was preoccupied, Rory told him, “I’ll be out in the parlor with your parents. If you need anything or want second breakfast, as I’m sure you do, meet us out in the dining room.” He strode out of the guest room, now for Frodo’s use.

Breaking the seal, Frodo opened the envelope and pulled out the folded letter. Setting the envelope down on the dresser, Frodo unfolded the parchment and read Aria’s delicate, fine handwriting:

_June 24 th, 1992 A.H.T. (a.k.a. Authors’ House Timeline)_

_Dear Frodo,_

_I am so sorry if this letter doesn’t reach you on the exact date I wrote it. There are only so many owls that go out and Hedwer was being used by first Anne, then Amy, and then Abigail twice for their letters. I just now took the time early this morning to write this letter. I don’t know when I’ll send Hedwer to you, but it will be very soon. If not, then sometime today._

_Anyway, other than my owl fiasco, how are you? What have you been doing these past four days? I’ll tell you one thing: as soon as I got back to the Authors’ House, my mind has been fixated on you. Frodo, I know I’m your fangirl and authoress, but with us, it feels like a real friendship is building up and blossoming. Oh, I do hope you can visit the Authors’ House, when you can. There’s so much here to see and do. It’s incredible… that is, if you’re into writing and such, but there’s plenty of games and activities to do here, too._

_I need to tell you – although, I’m not sure if I should be telling you this – Amy and Abigail both just received their first copies of The Lord of the Rings book trilogy. Anne got her copy last year, as did I. Still, I thought you should know, but then I’m not sure how you’d react if you ever saw this trilogy with your future adventures in it. Oh, now I am speaking too much! Oh…_

_Well, if you ever want to visit the Authors’ House, you can. I’d invite you over. We have our very own garden, the kitchen’s always open, there’s even a writer’s study and a library… oh, there’s so much to try here. But it’s up to you. I’m sorry for pressuring you and all._

_Anyway… chat with you later. Hope to read your letter soon._

_Your friend,  
Aria Breuer (a.k.a. Maisie)_

Frodo couldn’t help but let out a small giggle and a big grin. The way Aria wrote her letter was enough to make his whole day filled with delightful surprise. Setting the letter on the dresser, Frodo turned his gaze to Hedwer. The owl needed to go outside.

Opening the bedroom door, even though Frodo was sure he heard his Uncle Rory close it again, Frodo told Hedwer, “Here you go. You can head outside, Hedwer.”

Hedwer screeched. Flapping his wings, Hedwer flew towards the open doorway. Directing the owl to the front door, Frodo opened it for him. Hedwer zoomed out of the doorway, hooting cheerfully to be back out in the sunshine. By the time he closed the door, Frodo watched from a nearby window at Hedwer, as he perched on a high branch at the top of a nearby tree. Happy that Hedwer was enjoying himself, Frodo made his way into the parlor.

Brandy Hall’s parlor had a wide window and was certainly a fairly large room. There were two tables, a long wooden ledge under the window with a few pillows set out on top of it; this ledge was the perfect spot to read or sit quietly and watch what was happening outside. There was also a fireplace set out against the wall. Along the wall were a few paintings of Buckland, the Old Forest and a large painting of the Brandybuck family.

There, Frodo told his parents, uncle and aunt, “Hedwer will be fine. He’s a smart owl. He’ll come back.”

“All owls are,” said Drogo, “especially those from the Wizardry World.”

Primula told Frodo, extending her hand, “Come in here, son.”

Frodo agreed in silence, entering the parlor and taking a seat between his father and mother. It was going to be a good day. But in the back of Frodo’s mind, he had this strange nagging feeling that something bad would happen that day. He did not know what. Was it something he was meant to remember? Or… he didn’t know.

o-o-o

Throughout the day, Frodo did his best to find his cousins. Many of them had gone off through Buckland, near Brandy Hall, to chat with other people, or else sleep. Frodo did find it a bit fun to wake those cousins who were sleeping, just to hear their dream-filled mumbles. Frodo did leave them alone, though. Some cousins who Frodo did get the chance to interact with had quite interesting, if not simple stories to tell. These stories made Frodo wonder whether he would have another adventure with Aria, Harry, Ron and Hermione during his second year. He didn’t announce this to anyone, but it was a pleasant thought, in spite of the end to their first adventure.

Towards three o’ clock – and Frodo remembered telling time by the sun – Frodo neared the Brandywine River. As he approached the river, a few hobbits pushed past him, apologizing as they went. Frodo didn’t go very far when, standing before him, was a crowd of hobbits making a half circle by the river’s shore.

“Where’s the boy?” asked one Brandybuck.

“Find the lad,” said Saradoc. “Frodo must know-”

“Know what?” asked Frodo, making his presence known.

The hobbits in the circle turned their heads slowly his way. There was a heavy silence, something Frodo did not quite understand. Saradoc told the crowd of hobbits, “Let him pass.” His words were enough to allow the hobbits to step aside, creating an aisle.

Frodo walked through the aisle. The hobbits behind him returned to their first positions. The whole scene felt ominous, something Frodo didn’t very much enjoy. What was going on that he wasn’t aware of? Frodo didn’t like being left out of the loop. He –

“Oh no,” said Frodo, nearly choking on his own words. Lying on the ground were Frodo’s parents, but to Frodo’s horror their skin was as white as a sheet and they weren’t breathing. Shock overwhelmed Frodo, like a huge stone had struck him. No, this couldn’t be real! This couldn’t…

Approaching his parents’ lifeless bodies, Frodo collapsed on his knees before his mother. “Mum?” He peered over at his father, hoping his cry would wake him. “Dad?!” He wanted to scream, but some part of him told him not to do it. He was filled with both disbelief and a penetrating sadness, something that could not be easily cured. He fell on his butt, his body too heavy to do anything else.

Saradoc informed Frodo, surprised how calm and quiet the lad was responding, “Your parents drowned on the Brandywine River. I’m sorry, Frodo.”

Frodo’s gaze fell on his uncle. He said nothing, nodding in reply. Tears about ran down his face. Frodo rubbed some tears out of his eyes, but he found he couldn’t prevent them all. Not wanting anyone to see him cry, Frodo darted away from the sight. His run caused the crowd of Brandybucks, his relatives, to stand aside in an effort not to get shoved. Frodo didn’t want to risk hurting anyone, but the pain he was in was enough to say how much he was grieving.

Finding his way into Brandy Hall, Frodo continued his charge non-stop. His legs cried out in pain and agony, but he didn’t care. By the time he reached his bedroom, Frodo collapsed on the bed, finally releasing the tears that wanted to leave his eyes and stain his cheeks.

o-o-o

Throughout dinner, Frodo sat in deep thought. He did his best to eat his food, but otherwise he stayed in silence. The whole table was also silent, as his Brandybuck relatives felt his grief. But that was nothing compared to the pain Frodo was feeling and the overwhelming shock of how alone he felt. Suddenly, Hogwarts was beginning to grow on him all the more. In the past few hours, since losing his parents, Frodo was now an orphan.

Re-entering the room his Uncle Saradoc told him would be his from now on, Frodo found Hedwer perched on the branch podium and Prim back inside her cage. Frodo felt too hurt to do anything, yet… there was Aria and Harry. Harry had lost his parents before he got the chance to know them. But it was Aria who he wanted to talk to, since he had this feeling – from what Aria told him – Aria already knew this event would happen. While mildly annoyed at this information, Frodo found the only way he would explain himself to her as through a reply. He had been sorely lacking it.

Finding the writing desk in his Brandy Hall bedroom, Frodo pulled out a single piece of parchment, dipped his quill into the filled ink bottle and wrote to Aria. His hand shook as he wrote his letter:

_June 24 th, 2980 T.A. (a.k.a. Third Age of Middle-earth)_

_Dear Aria,_

_I have news to tell you and it’s hurting me right now… my parents are dead. There isn’t anything I can do about it. I must hear from you soon. I don’t know what to do. I feel like I’m about to come to tears. Please send a reply with advice. I need to hear from you. If you know anything about what’s happening to Harry Potter this year, our friend, I’d like to know that as well. I haven’t got any letters from him at all, or anyone. I need to know if they’re all right; if anyone is all right._

_Please Aria._

_Your friend,_

_Frodo_

Tears dripped onto the parchment as he wrote these words. It felt good to get it out of his chest, but… Frodo folded up the parchment and sealed it in his Baggins’ seal. Approaching Hedwer, Frodo passed him the letter. Hedwer grabbed it with his beak.

Frodo told the tawny owl, “You know where to find Aria.”

Hedwer flew through the same portal, which vanished from Frodo’s room as soon as the bird was through it. Relieved the door was closed, Frodo sat down on his bed and wept non-stop. He didn’t know how long he slept that night, but by morning, the tears had stopped. While it was comforting, Frodo found he missed his friends, but at this time he truly missed both his parents. Without their guidance, Frodo wondered how he would manage the rest of his life. He didn’t want this to happen, and yet it did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There were definitely tears in my eyes the first time I wrote the second to last section and learning what happened to Frodo’s parents. With Drogo and Primula’s boating accident, there were two theories that J.R.R. Tolkien represented when the hobbits spoke of Frodo’s parents. These theories are stated as this: Drogo and Primula, after dinner, went out boating and Drogo’s weight sunk the boat; or it wasn’t an accident, Primula pushed Drogo into the water and Drogo pulled her in. As you can tell, I didn’t specify which one, but I don’t think I need to, unless you readers are actually interested. I guess I left it up to you, readers, to decide how it happened.
> 
> As to the matter concerning Brandy Hall, there’s really no description on the interior, as far as I read from ‘The Lord of the Rings’ Wiki and, of course, there’s hardly any description, if at all, of Brandy Hall’s interior in The Fellowship of the Ring book. Due to this, it’s given me the freedom to describe the smial’s interior; although, I think some reference and inspiration was given by the Great Smials in Tuckborough from the Massive-Multiplayer Online game “The Lord of the Rings Online”.


	3. Family Affairs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The previous chapter, in the time the site’s login screen was down, had to be tweaked since Frodo needed to stay more in-character. Moving on: this chapter, we’ll meet a new IC or inspired character… a house-elf actually. Don’t worry; I’ll do my best to make sure this house-elf is not like any house-elf we’ve met. I was just letting you, my fellow readers and writers, know what new OC-IC is going to make his appearance. :)

Frodo was roused early the next morning by Hedwer, who perched himself on the table-side branch podium. The owl screeched so many times, it was as if he were begging for food. This, in turn, woke Prim, who also screeched to be let out of her cage.

Groggily, Frodo asked the tawny owl, “What is it, Hedwer?” He recognized Hedwer’s screeches, as well as Prim, even though they were two different breeds of owls. He shushed both owls, in an attempt to keep them quiet, whispering to them and keeping his voice calm, “Shh! You want to wake the house?”

The two owls did not stop their screeching. Getting out of bed, Frodo released Prim from her cage. Prim flew out faster than Frodo expected. Not wanting the two owls to leave a mess in his room, Frodo opened his bedroom door slowly. At once, Hedwer darted out of the room, with Prim on his tail. Just thinking of the reason why he named Prim after his mother sent tears down Frodo’s face again. Frodo stifled his cries as best he could, but the tears persisted, staining his cheeks and not receding. Reaching the front door, Frodo opened it for Hedwer and Prim. The two owls glided out the opening, relieved to be out in the fresh air.

Still yawning, Frodo closed the front door in an effort not to wake anyone. Returning to his bedroom, Frodo broke the seal from the envelope he just received. Flipping over the envelope to its front, Frodo read the address of the sender: it was from Aria. Now he had something to look forward to: her reply to his distressing letter to her. Unfolding the parchment, Frodo read the letter to himself in Aria’s neat handwriting:

_June 25 th, 1992 A.H.T. (a.k.a. Authors’ House Timeline)_

_Frodo,_

_I just received your letter. Most distressing, but I do feel awful. I can’t imagine the pain you’re in. When we get back to Hogwarts, or you come and see me at the Authors’ House, we need to talk. Frodo, just know that you can rely on me for these sorts of things. I’m good at this. You’ll always have me as a friend._

_As for Harry Potter, I think this summer is the year in which he doesn’t receive his owls from his friends, let alone him sending any in reply. Something to do with the Dursleys, Harry’s relatives, and it isn’t anything good. I would give it away, but I’ll let Harry decide when he wants to tell you._

_Now for you, if you don’t feel comfortable talking about what happened to your parents with me, then that’s fine. I’ll let you come out of your shell with this on your own. Just don’t pressure yourself into thinking you’re alone. You’re not alone. Our first year at Hogwarts taught me that. I need my friends, and I’m guessing you do too. Remember, it’s only the summer but… Frodo, I’m inviting you to come to the Authors’ House… after your parents’ funeral, if anything. I just don’t want you to feel alone. You’re never alone, Frodo. That much I’ll admit._

_Your friend,_

_Aria_

Frodo was touched. The way Aria wrote her letter to him was so courteous he felt like blushing, and in the most affectionate way to her… wait, affectionate? Why was he… This was not the time to be romantic, if he even knew the term. He just lost his parents. Of course he should be happy. Aria was a good friend. He sighed deeply to himself. Yes, she was. Her words certainly hit a cord inside him that he didn’t expect would happen.

_You’re not alone. You’re never alone._ Those were Aria’s words that stuck out in Frodo’s mind. Well, he was alone, now in Brandy Hall. But then he was at Brandy Hall with his aunt, uncle and other relatives. Yet they said nothing to him the other day. He…

Frodo’s thoughts were interrupted at the sound of footsteps approaching. Turning sharply towards the open doorway, Frodo gazed up at his Uncle Saradoc. Although they didn’t say much, Frodo gestured inside his bedroom. Saradoc made his way over to the bed and sat down. Frodo stuffed his letter, addressed to him by Aria, back inside the envelope.

Saradoc spoke to him as Frodo did this action, “In the wake of your parents’ deaths, I have made my decision.”

Frodo asked, still stuffing the letter inside the envelope, “On what?”

Saradoc explained, “You’re going to come and live here, Frodo. Given these turn of events, and because you are a minor, you are passed onto the immediate family. This could be Drogo’s sister and brother, or you could come and live with the Brandybucks. After the funeral, we’ll see who wants to take up guardianship over you.”

Frodo faced his uncle, asking him and already knowing the answer, “So, I’m not allowed to choose.”

Saradoc shook his head. “That’s not how it works, Frodo.”

Frodo asked, doing his best to keep calm and collected, “Why are you telling me this, if I don’t have any say in the matter?”

“Because I am going to take you in, unless circumstances change,” said Saradoc. “You’ve lived in Buckland your whole life. I certainly don’t want to risk depraving you of this opportunity. Besides, you can help out around here, if you want; although, for now, you need to grieve.”

Frodo nodded silently. He didn’t want the tears showing, not in front of his uncle.

Saradoc told him, “Well, that’s all I needed to tell you. You do what you want, but breakfast is at nine. If you don’t make it here early, you’ll miss out on the food.”

“I think I’ll take a morning walk, uncle,” said Frodo. When he saw his uncle gazing down at him, Frodo admitted, “It might help clear my head.”

Saradoc grinned at him, “I believe you should.” He patted the wood of the door frame before taking a walk down the hallway.

Once his uncle fled, Frodo rushed into the bathroom to do his business. When he came out, Frodo found his walking stick and his cloak. This would be the first of many morning walks Frodo took, and already he felt a sense of accomplishment. He wasn’t used to taking morning walks, but this was the best he could do, in light of what happened. Frodo did hope beyond hope that he would see Aria again. He missed her and all his friends, even though Harry could not respond. Given his other friends’ reasons, wondering at the same time what they were doing, Frodo for now could only rely on Aria. After all, she was becoming a close friend of his and he did not want to lose her, not for anything.

o-o-o

Two days later, Drogo and Primula’s funeral commenced. Most of the family arrived that wanted to come, after receiving Saradoc Brandybuck’s letter in the mail. Drogo’s sister Dora and his brother Dudo, along with Dudo’s daughter Daisy, also attended the funeral. Bilbo arrived a day early, as he slept in the guest room next to Frodo. Frodo was delighted to see Bilbo, but Frodo knew he would be sitting in the front row with his immediate family.

When the funeral began and the speeches were made, Frodo did his best to keep himself from crying. He still refused to show anyone his tears, but the saddened expression on his face didn’t recede. Before the funeral ended, Drogo and Primula’s bodies were moved to the cemetery, a good kilometer away from Brandy Hall, but pitted in a wide spot that could hold those who passed on. After the burial, nearly all the family went their separate ways. Saradoc and Esmeralda hung back with Frodo. Esmeralda knew, as did Saradoc, the lad needed the support.

Frodo just stared at the tombstone. His parents were gone and he was alone. The very thought sunk in like a stone dropping down a well. He even felt like he was sinking into a well with no end in sight. It certainly was a sorrowful day. Not having the courage to continue looking at his parents’ grave, Frodo walked away. His uncle and aunt were right behind him as they neared the entrance to the cemetery. Waiting for Frodo, much to the lad’s surprise, was Bilbo. Bilbo knew this was a trying time for Frodo, and since Frodo was his favorite cousin, Bilbo wanted to make sure Frodo was well cared for, even in times such as these.

Returning to Brandy Hall, Frodo found the immediate family gathered inside, including Drogo’s brother, his daughter and Drogo’s sister. Hoping to make amends with his father’s sister, Frodo approached Dora. Dora stared down at the hobbit boy before her, as if asking to intimidate the boy. Dora already knew how much of a hassle Frodo was, but to see the sorrowful look on the lad’s face almost made her pity him. This wasn’t a day for her strict ways towards children, pre-teens included.

“Hey Aunt Dora,” said Frodo, softly.

Dora naturally gave her correction, “Young lad, we do not say ‘hey’. We say ‘hullo’.”

Frodo was a little offended. Given whom his aunt was Frodo let it pass.

Dora paused. This lad needed sympathy rather than remorse. She told him, “I am sorry for your loss. Drogo was a good, respectable hobbit. He always had a keen interest in food.”

“Yes he did,” said Frodo, still remembering his father getting a good whiff of those sausages, when they neared Brandy Hall. Now his father was gone, as was his mother.

Dora gave Frodo some advice, “Well, keep your chin up. We wouldn’t want you to be useless.” She wandered off to talk to her brother and his daughter.

Not finding any sense in being with the crowd, Frodo moved past the hobbits until he came to the same hallway where his bedroom was. Saradoc said the room was now his, so it only made sense to Frodo to make use of it. What he did know was it had only been a week exactly since he had returned to Buckland, since leaving Hogwarts via Hogwarts Express. Frodo never imagined something like this happening to him, and yet it did happen. And there was nothing he could do except to grieve.

However, the door to his bedroom was already opened. As Frodo made his way into the room, there walking about the room was a creature a foot or two taller than he. The creature, male he was, had pointed bat-like ears, an oversized head and two bulging brown eyes. This creature, from the way he behaved, was middle aged but stealthy. He wore a discarded white pillowcase as an outfit. He almost reminded Frodo of an elf, like the ones from Bilbo’s adventures and J.R.R. Tolkien’s writing. But this creature did not given the impression of a tall, graceful elf.

The creature jumped back in fright upon seeing him, “Wha! Kanker is terribly sorry. Kanker did not see Frodo Baggins.”

“What are you?” was the first question from Frodo’s mouth. He recovered, “No, you’re fine. Who are you and what are you doing in my room?”

“Kanker, sir; I’m a House-elf,” said Kanker, making an introduction. “Kanker is terribly sorry, sir. Kanker’s master and mistress are dead and Frodo Baggins is the only living heir I know who will take me in.”

“A House-elf,” said Frodo. He thought for a moment. Wait… his parents had a House-elf? Frodo asked the creature, unsure if he wanted a House-elf, “Why would my parents have a House-elf?”

“Kanker understands this will be hard for Frodo Baggins to hear. Kanker is… was bound to Drogo Baggins, your father. Drogo received me as a present on his twentieth birthday, but Drogo claimed me as a joke and kept me quiet from you. If Kanker was ever discovered…” He shuddered at the thought. Perking up a bit, Kanker said, “…but now, Kanker hopes he will be a good House-elf to you, Frodo Baggins,” Kanker explained as best he could.

“Did my father give you your name as a joke, too?” asked Frodo.

“Drogo had a likeable reputation, but he was known as something of a joker. Kanker remembers your father well,” said Kanker.

“Does my uncle know you’re here?” asked Frodo, growing concerned. He couldn’t have a House-elf at Brandy Hall, unless his family was already in on having Kanker here.

Kanker explained, “Oh yes. Saradoc knows I’m here, as do the Brandybucks. Kanker has come to make amends and wish you well. Kanker will continue to serve Frodo Baggins.”

Kanker certainly was friendly. Frodo asked him, taking a seat on the bed, “You act as if you know me?”

Kanker said, “Yes, Frodo Baggins. Kanker knows Frodo Baggins fought the Dark Lord Sauron a few weeks ago and succeeded. Kanker feels obliged to serve Frodo Baggins.”

Frodo wondered how helpful Kanker really would be to him. He asked the House-elf, “What stories do you have for me, about my parents? I’d love to hear them.”

Pulling up a chair, Kanker began his first tale, “Kanker remembers when Drogo used to court Primula, Frodo Baggins’ mother. Drogo was a rambunctious lad…”

The stories Kanker told continued well into the afternoon. By that time, Esmeralda called Frodo for dinner. Finding Kanker to be a good House-elf, Frodo led him into the dining room and allowed the House-elf to sit with him. Saradoc forbade the order, telling Kanker to sit at his table by the corner. Although Frodo didn’t like it, he told Kanker, politely, to do as his Uncle Saradoc said. It turned out Kanker would only listen to Frodo. True, Saradoc had his reasons to find House-elves below him and his family in stature; still, he knew Frodo would need some responsibility. Maybe having Frodo look after Kanker the House-elf wouldn’t be a bad idea.

o-o-o

Later that evening, as Kanker slept in his cot in Frodo’s bedroom, Frodo sat at his writing desk, quill in hand. Although he was still in pain, Frodo wrote a reply to Aria’s latest letter:

_June 27 th, 2980 T.A. (Third Age of Middle-earth)_

_Dear Aria,_

_Well, my parents’ funeral happened today and while it’s been a trying time keeping myself together, I do have news to share with you: my father’s House-elf, Kanker, is now my House-elf. I inherited him and now he’s willing to serve me. I didn’t ask for him and I’m having a hard time figuring out what to do with the creature… even though I am sure there are a couple of things I want to do with him._

_Anyway, I hope your summer’s going well so far. You needn’t worry about me too much. I’ll live. At least I’m not alone now, as Kanker is willing to help me get through this rough patch. I hope you don’t take this the wrong way. I’m still here for you and I won’t let you down. I am your friend. I just needed a companion in my life. If I ever take the time to come and see you at the Authors’ House, I’ll let you know. For now, I need to get through this._

_I’ll see you at Hogwarts and we can talk more there._

_Your friend,_

_Frodo_

Frodo folded and sealed his letter, addressing it to Aria before he sealed it with his Baggins’ stamp. Approaching Hedwer, Frodo handed the owl his letter. Grabbing the letter with his beak, Hedwer flew through the portal, vanishing from the room. Returning to his bed, Frodo set the candle on the table, blowing it out as he tucked himself in.

In the darkness of the room, Kanker asked Frodo, “Is Frodo Baggins well this evening? Does he need Kanker’s assistance?”

For the first time, since losing his parents in the boating accident, Frodo let out a small, merry chuckle. He told Kanker, keeping his voice calm and polite, “No, that’s fine, Kanker. Thank you. You’ve been such a good friend.”

“Kanker is willing to serve Frodo Baggins, in every manner,” said Kanker.

Frodo believed the House-elf would do just that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So how was that? I was in the _Harry Potter_ mood and so I returned to this story. Also, how was Kanker’s introduction? While he may be similar to Dobby, Kanker will definitely be more himself.


	4. Letters Among Friends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Coming up are a few ideas given to me by DoctorWhovian18 and the hobbits. And time to see more Kanker action, too. :) And as for the year on my letters to Frodo in these chapters, the previous two I had the year wrong: it’s not 1991, it’s 1992. Simple error, but one I need to catch right away. It seems my mind is still transitioning from _The Rival Houses_ to this story.

Frodo opened his sleepy eyes, only to come face-to-face with Kanker’s long nose and cheerful smile. Frodo jumped in fright due to this, causing the House-elf to back away slightly. Seeing the House-elf in his room meant only one thing: Frodo’s parents were gone and there was nothing he could do. Nearly welling up in tears, Frodo brushed them off fast in an effort to keep himself steady.

Frodo asked his House-elf, “Kanker, what were you doing?”

Kanker apologized at once. “Kanker is terribly sorry, Frodo Baggins. Kanker only came to give you these letters. The owls flew back, except Hedwer. Kanker remembers Frodo Baggins talking in his sleep about the tawny owl. That’s how Kanker knew Hedwer’s name!” He set three envelopes on Frodo’s lap, before wandering off somewhere in Frodo’s room.

Frodo was reminded of a little kid, the way Kanker spoke to him. Opening the first envelope, addressed to him, Frodo found it came from his friend at Hogwarts, Samwise Gamgee. Wait… Sam could send letters his way? They weren’t even from the same time; at least, older Sam wasn’t but younger Sam was. Letting the thought pass, Frodo unfolded the letter and read it to himself:

_June 27 th, 2992 T.A._

_Dear Mr. Frodo,_

_How are you? I must apologize for what I said to you about my birthday. My birthday is not in May, but in April; April 6 th, to be precise. I wanted to tell you, give you a good reason to celebrate my birthday in April, but it was my brothers’ fault. They wanted me to celebrate my birthday in private. I waited too long to tell you when my birthday was, and then for some reason my parents didn’t receive an owl until close to May. Anyway, that’s what I wanted to say, explain to you my reason. Hopefully, I can have my birthday celebration on the exact date, instead of havin’ it belated for nearly a month._

_Now that that’s off my chest, I’m still wonderin’ how your doin’. We haven’t spoken since school ended. I don’t know if this letter will reach you. I wanted to send it to you before the summer ended. I hope you don’t mind. Maybe I’ll get your letter in return… maybe I won’t. We’ll have to wait and see what happens. Feel free to send Hedwer, Miss Aria’s owl, my way. My brothers were used our aunt’s owl. I couldn’t afford to make her owl send a reply._

_Hope your summer’s goin’ good. See you at Hogwarts for our second year._

_Your friend,  
Samwise Gamgee_

Frodo knew he would have to keep this letter a secret. Still, he would make sure to have a good talk with Sam when he’d seen him, whether at Diagon Alley or at Hogwarts. At this point, Frodo knew his friendship with Sam had only just begun. Sam was a very shy hobbit that would need a good talk. How else was Sam supposed to become more sociable?

Setting Sam’s letter down on his lap, Frodo opened the next envelope. Unfolding the parchment, Frodo found the letter came, this time, from his good friend Peregrin Took – even though friends called him Pippin:

_June 27 th, TA 3002_

_Frodo,_

_Oh, it’s so good to write to you, even though we’re not supposed to. You know something about the influx in time and space. Anyway, I hope you’re doing well and your summer’s good. Mine is anything but good. It’s busy._

_Getting that out of the way: I’m sorry for not mentioning my birthday to you, but I will now. My birthday’s on April 10 th. I know Merry’s birthday is coming up in August… I believe it was August 25th. I’m sure Merry will want to tell us more about his birthday come our train ride back to Hogwarts. I know I’m looking forward to learning the details. But where I am now in the Shire, Merry’s older than me; but then, so are you, Sam and Fredegar, who we know as Fatty._

_So how are you and how’s Aria? I know Merry and I pick on you and Aria a lot, but you two really behave like close friends. Folco’s getting jealous, or so he told me in his last letter. You haven’t seen Folco around where you are, have you? I’d hate to know what Lotho has up his sleeves this year._

_I hope to hear from you soon, Frodo._

_Your friend,_

_Pippin_

Great, there were two birthdays Frodo now knew. But he was glad and relieved his friends finally perked up the courage and told him this information. The last letter Frodo read came from Aria, who was clearly distraught and annoyed. This was no surprise to Frodo… well, it was surprising how Aria responded to his last letter the previous evening:

_June 27 th, 1992 A.H.T. (Authors’ House Timeline)_

_Frodo,_

_Needn’t worry? Frodo, of course I worry over you. It’s more than just being a fangirl to me because I am your friend and I only want to help you out, in every which way possible. I know that’s asking a lot, but please do understand that I can relate to what you’re going through. No, my parents are still alive, but I’ve been to funerals in the past. I’ve even lost pets. So yeah, I know what you’re going through and that it will take time to heal._

_Just don’t leave me out of the loop like that! Frodo, we’re supposed to help each other out. That’s what friends do, even in these rough spots. I’m here for you and if you need to vent, go right ahead. We’ll talk more when we get back to Hogwarts or better yet, on the Hogwarts Express; although, while we’re on the train, we might run into Sam, Merry, Pippin and our other friends. I just don’t want to feel left out. I know I didn’t do anything wrong, but I just don’t want to be pushed off to the side. That’s all._

_But how are you doing? I know this letter will arrive tomorrow morning and Hedwer needs his rest before he travels again. Whatever Hedwer’s doing in the Shire, it is working. I’ve never seen a happier owl. Thank you. But Frodo, seriously, how much time do you chat with your friends and family in the Shire, in your time? You can’t spend your time alone; even though I know from experience being lonely isn’t always bad._

_Anyway, please write soon. I’d love to hear your response._

_Talk to you soon._

_Your friend,  
Aria_

Yes, Frodo was feeling distraught himself but also shaken up. Aria really meant what she said there, only as a matter of advice and reasoning. Frodo understood why Aria said those things to him. This kind of encouragement was enough for him to, after finishing his business in the bathroom, write his reply to Aria straight away. He set Sam and Pippin’s letter on his writing desk, making sure their letters were back inside their proper envelopes. He didn’t want anyone to see these letters, or else risk what Pippin said.

After pulling out a clean sheet of parchment, Frodo dipped his quill into the ink bottle and wrote his letter to Aria:

_June 28 th, 2980 T.A. (Third Age of Middle-earth) – Aria, how many times do we have to put parentheses around the definition of an abbreviation?_

_Dear Aria,_

_Your letter sure snapped me out of my reverie. No, I don’t want to be alone. At the same time, you don’t have to be involved – no, let me start again: of course I want you involved. It was never my intention to leave you left out of the loop. I am sorry I nearly did that. I’m not used to being around girls. I mean, you’re my first close friend who is a girl. It’s awkward and I’m not sure what will happen next between us. I’m afraid to find out; at the same time, I do hope our friendship stretches for miles, never ending. I mean that, Aria._

_Thank you for your kind words and advice. They really help me see that everything’s all right, as long as I have friends with me. You’ve been a good friend, Aria. I mean that, too, truly. I don’t want us to be apart or forget each other. And hey, you didn’t forget me! I’m grateful for this. I don’t want to lose you and I’m sure you feel the same._

_Wow. That came out really awkward. This time, I don’t mind. By the way, now that Sam and Pippin have pointed out their birthdays, mine is September 22 nd. Somehow, my friends knew that, but I’m not sure if you knew that, Aria. You probably already knew._

_Anyway, I’d love to hear from you soon. Wow, that was awkward, too. He he._

_Your friend,  
Frodo_

When he re-read his finished letter, Frodo felt a tinge of embarrassment and awkwardness. He still couldn’t believe how close he and Aria had come, in terms of their friendship. He remembered Dumbledore’s words to him a few weeks ago: _Love, Frodo, the ability to love and form friendships, bringing kindness to the world whenever you can._ Was it love he was feeling towards Aria? Frodo hardly understood the word love or what it meant. He was only twelve.

Well, whatever the case, his letter to Aria was done.

o-o-o

Later that afternoon, Frodo wrote two corresponding letters to Sam and Pippin. His first letter he wrote and addressed to Sam… well, to Sam’s twelve-year-old self:

_June 28 th, 2980 TA_

_Dear Samwise,_

_All right, Sam, as long as it isn’t anything serious; although I was a little stunned when you told me the news. I truly thought your birthday was in May! You really pulled the wool from my eyes, Sam. You should have said something._

_I’m doing well, besides the fact that my parents died in a boating accident out on the Brandywine River. It’s been a difficult time, but thankfully you, Aria and our other friends are here to help me get through this rough spot in my life. I really appreciate the effort, even though you just found out._

_I’m sending Hedwer your way, as soon as I’ve delivered my letter to Aria. Hopefully, she’ll return Hedwer… which reminds me, I should probably send her a note alongside her letter, before I send Hedwer to her first. I hope you don’t mind. You’ll get this letter, too, but I’ll need Hedwer back, if I’m to send Pippin’s letter to him._

_Anyway Sam, how are you doing? You can tell me in a follow-up letter or we can wait to address our summer holiday on the train ride to Hogwarts. As to the matter concerning your birthday, I already found out from Bilbo last year in his letter. I just waited until you said something, or at least admitted it. You had me confused, but I’m thankful you apologized._

_Hope to hear from you soon. If not, we’ll speak at Hogwarts._

_Your friend,  
Frodo_

Before he wrote a reply letter to Pippin, Frodo scrawled in the following note below his letter to Aria:

_Please return Hedwer to me so I can send my letters to Sam and Pippin. Neither of their owls came back, so if it’s all right with you, I’ll send them their way, inform them to send Hedwer back and return your owl to you._

Relief washed over him. Good, he was finished with two letters and a note. Now Frodo could work on his response to Pippin’s letter. Grabbing a clean sheet of parchment paper, Frodo dipped his quill into the ink bottle and wrote his third and last letter:

_June 28 th, 2980 TA_

_Pippin,_

_Who says we’re not supposed to? I get that we’re separated by time, but eventually time should catch up to us. We’ll get back on the right timeline, I’m sure. For now, this’ll have to do, as long as we keep a low profile… unless our families already know about us talking to each other. In that case, oh well. We tried to be secretive and sneaky._

_So that’s two hobbits who now tell me of their birthdays, both in April. I’m sorry, but Sam sent me a letter too, telling me his correct birthday, which is also in April. I found this out before from Bilbo in his letter a few months ago, but I wanted to wait until Sam had the courage to say something. Pippin, you should have told me, too. I understand if you were busy, but still, it doesn’t hurt to admit our birthdays to each other; so that way, we can celebrate together on the day of and the day beforehand._

_Last I checked Aria’s doing well; I’m just having a rough time right now because my parents died in a boating accident, out on the Brandywine River. Aria informed me she, you and all our friends would help me get through this rough spot in my life, which I am thankful. You truly are the best friends I could ever have, and I mean that. I hope Harry, Ron and Hermione are doing well, along with Fred and George. I’ve miss them terribly, too._

_I hope to hear from you again, Pippin. If not, then we’ll meet on the train to Hogwarts and talk then._

_Your friend,  
Frodo_

_P.S. If you could send Hedwer to me, unless you’re already doing this, I’ll send him back to Aria. Thanks._

Glad to be done with his letters, Frodo folded them up and sealed them with his Baggins stamp and red wax. Finding Hedwer outside, Frodo handed the tawny owl his first letter, addressed to Aria. Hedwer flew through a portal and returned in due time, with a message from Aria:

_Next time, use your owl Prim as well as Hedwer. I mean, you can still send messages to me through Hedwer, but you might as well make use of Prim. Otherwise, she’ll become bored and we wouldn’t want that._

Frodo nodded in understanding, even though he was confused. How would Prim know which timeline to travel to and where to go? Holding onto Aria’s note, Frodo passed to Hedwer next his letter to Sam. Hedwer took flight through the same portal, returning with a note from Sam. Opening the note, Frodo read it, too:

_Mr. Frodo, why don’t you use Prim as well? I know I may have given you the suggestion to use Hedwer, but you have an owl, too. Make use of her._

“I will, Sam,” said Frodo. He wondered if Pippin would give him the same message.

As soon as Hedwer flew through the exact same portal, carrying Frodo’s letter to Pippin, the tawny owl returned awful fast. Taking the parchment from Hedwer’s beak, Frodo opened that too and read the note, which was in Pippin’s handwriting:

_You know, you can use Prim to send messages and letters. It doesn’t have to be Aria’s owl Hedwer._

“But you told me to send Hedwer to you, too,” said Frodo, mildly annoyed. Taking the notes from his friends to heart, Frodo told Hedwer, calming down some, “All right. Go back to Aria.”

Hedwer screeched and stretched his wings. Agreeing the order silently, Hedwer flew back into the air through the same portal. The tawny owl did not return that evening. As soon as he realized Hedwer wasn’t coming back, Frodo made his way back to Brandy Hall. Prim was there alright, waiting for him and hooting in the parlor.

o-o-o

July arrived in swift procession. By then, Frodo’s parents’ affairs were set by his family and soon everything was in order. Frodo, of course, had at this point brought his trunk over to Brandy Hall, the same one he would bring with him back to Hogwarts. Kanker was truly a very helpful House-elf, even with getting Frodo ready for his second year at the wizardry school. Kanker agreed on the first week of July that he would be there for Frodo in times of trouble, as Kanker felt it was his duty to repay the debt he owed Frodo’s parents, since he was Drogo’s House-elf first and foremost.

When the middle of July came, the business with Frodo’s parents’ sudden deaths was complete. Frodo now only had time to spend at Brandy Hall. His real joy came from Kanker and his friends’ letters, which arrived frequently. Only Harry’s letters were missing. Frodo did not know why this was. He suspected the Dursleys, Harry’s relatives, had something to do with it. As with Frodo’s incoming mail, what also increased in the month of July was, to help Frodo take his mind off his loss, him continuing to steal mushrooms off of Farmer Maggot’s land. In spite of Kanker’s warnings, the House-elf proved a good assistant with Frodo’s missions to Mr. Maggot’s farm. However, Frodo felt the need to shut Kanker up, as he might give their position away.

On Sunday, July 19th, Frodo assisted his Aunt Esmeralda in the kitchen. Esmeralda, unlike Saradoc who hardly gave Frodo any hugs and comforting words, decided it was time to speak to Frodo and share her words of advice and love, as any aunt would for her nephew.

Esmeralda started the conversation. “How are you, Frodo?”

Tears started on Frodo’s face. He said nothing, but insisted, “I think this salad needs more lettuce.”

Esmeralda stopped him, “The salad can wait. I asked you how you are doing.”

Frodo gazed up at her. He was about to cry and he knew it. He told the truth, “I miss my parents. They were a big part of my life.”

Esmeralda pulled Frodo in at that. Wrapping her arms around the lad, Esmeralda said, tender-heartedly, “I know, dear. I know. I miss them, too. But we’ll always remember them in life. We’ll see them again.”

Frodo peered up at her. He did his best not to cry, but some tears shed down his face. “How do you know?”

Esmeralda said, “Because Eru will bring them back to us. We must have faith, Frodo. But I know you’re grieving. It’s all right to cry.”

Frodo wiped the tears from his eyes and face. Gazing at his aunt again, Frodo said, a bit shaky but calm, “Thank you, Aunt Esmeralda. I needed that hug.”

“Well, you have your friends, too.” Esmeralda said last, “Now, why don’t you let me fix luncheon. You don’t have to do anything, if you don’t feel like it. All right?”

“I’ll go find Kanker. I’m sure he’s around here somewhere,” said Frodo.

“Oh!” said Kanker, appearing in the dining room.

Frodo jumped a bit. He hadn’t expected Kanker to make a sudden appearance. Entering the dining room, Frodo said, gleefully, “Kanker! I was just asking where you were.”

“Kanker knows… Kanker would never abandon Frodo Baggins,” said Kanker.

“Right,” said Frodo, chuckling in giddy delight. “So, what are your plans for today?”

“Oh, Kanker doesn’t have any plans. Kanker is bound to serve Frodo Baggins. Kanker doesn’t get to choose,” said Kanker.

Frodo’s smile faded away at that. He said, “Oh. Well, what would you like to do today?”

“Hmm… Kanker gets to decide?” asked Kanker.

Frodo nodded, smiling at him. Already, he was feeling better, just having Kanker with him.

Kanker, on the other hand, had a hard time deciding what to do. It wasn’t in his nature to do whatever he wanted. Kanker was used to waiting on people, not the other way around. In the end, Kanker decided to have lunch, at which Frodo and Esmeralda agreed. In more ways than Frodo might have imagined, he and Kanker needed each other. That was all there was to it, even as summer became more heated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realize this whole chapter was packed with letters from Frodo’s friends and Frodo. I guess that’s the way the chapter wanted to go. As we can tell from this chapter, we’re in the middle of July. A last-minute idea came from LOTCR, which is actually an introduction to her idea that, I hope, answers her much-needed question. :)


	5. A Visit to St. Mungo's Hospital

July was passing much sooner than expected in the Shire. Much of the time was spent on lazy days, but the farmers didn’t see it. Their minds were on working their lands. Frodo, on the other hand, chose to distract himself with stealing mushrooms. He even shared his mushrooms with Kanker, even though the House-elf didn’t approve of stealing anything. Frodo just laughed it off. It was good to have friends he could share mushrooms with, no matter who they were.

On the last day of July, Frodo found out in a letter from Ron that it was Harry’s birthday. However, Ron was in the same rut as Frodo, wondering why Harry never received their letters. Frodo, throughout the summer, had declared that he would send two letters per week to Harry, just in case. After sending his letter to Harry that day, wishing him a happy birthday, Frodo entered the dining room and sat down with his family.

Saradoc told Frodo, “We’re heading to St. Mungo’s Hospital later today. Even though I have business here in the Shire, your mother and I have decided that maybe you need to meet one of your teachers, who is in the hospital; Professor Cherryhill.”

Esmeralda said to her nephew, “We just thought, now that your parents are gone, you might need someone familiar to talk to, besides us.”

“When do we leave?” Frodo asked.

“After breakfast.” Saradoc answered.

Frodo looked down at his food, contemplating the offer. Being reminded of Professor Cherryhill made him remember what happened in the Chambers to the Stone. Thinking of Sauron… being choked… seeing Aria fall unconscious. Frodo shuddered at the thought. Could he stand meeting Cherryhill after all he witnessed?

However, he quickly decided that his uncle was right. It would be nice to see a familiar face. Frodo responded with, “Okay, I’ll go.”

Kanker announced from his place at the smaller table, “Kanker will go, too. Frodo Baggins’ needs protection.”

“Yes he will.” Saradoc said, smiling a little.

Frodo turned his gaze to Kanker, telling him, “Okay. We can go together.”

“Kanker doesn’t want you to feel alone,” the House-elf said. “Frodo Baggins is Kanker’s friend and master.” His words caused most of the Brandybuck adults to chuckle. They could all tell that the House-elf meant what he said.

Frodo returned his gaze to his Uncle Saradoc. Only his uncle and aunt returned to a conversation entirely their own. Realizing how lonely he was becoming, Frodo ate his breakfast and asked for seconds without delay. But as he ate, thoughts of Aria and how she was doing rushed through his mind. He hadn’t seen Aria since Platform Nine-and-Three-Quarters, so he wasn't surprised that he missed her. He must have told himself this hundreds of times, but each time meant something. At least he got her letters every week, daily even.

Frodo finished his seconds in record time. Once he was ready to go, Frodo joined Saradoc and Esmeralda out in the Entrance Hall. Convinced that Frodo was still coming, Saradoc rang the bell and opened the front door for him, his wife and his nephew. On the other side was the inside of a large hospital; before them was a reception area.

Frodo looked about him. He had never been to a hospital. He was more used to healers that didn’t work in these facilities. The whole experience was new to him. Distracted by those thoughts, he missed the Welcome Witch directing them to where they needed to go.

Esmeralda told her nephew, “This way, Frodo.”

The three hobbits entered an elevator, where they were lifted a few stories up. When the elevator stopped, they had reached the Fourth Floor. Frodo’s mind reeled over the long hallway. Unsure where he was headed, Frodo followed Saradoc and Esmeralda down the passage. They reached the second door on their right in no time at all.

Approaching a healer, Saradoc told him, “We’re here to see Angora Cherryhill.”

“She hardly gets visitors. And the way she’s going, we’re lucky to have her now. You may enter,” said the healer, opening the door for them.

Inside the Janus Thickey Ward, as Frodo learned from the signpost outside this part of the wizardry hospital, were beds lined along either wall. Patients moved about, while others sat in their separate beds unmoving or not bothering getting up. Frodo felt anxious, yet he followed his aunt and uncle across the room. Professor Cherryhill was sitting in her bed, eating food fixed up for her on a tray. Frodo followed his Uncle Saradoc and Aunt Esmeralda over to Professor Cherryhill. It was time to get this done and over with.

Saradoc said to the elderly hobbit witch, “Angora Cherryhill.”

Cherryhill gazed at the family with little response. She was clearly not in the mood for visitors. Frodo felt a spasm of anxiety in his chest, as he didn't want Professor Cherryhill to feel uncomfortable, but tried to fight it down.

Saradoc continued, “My name is Saradoc Brandybuck.” He gestured to his wife and nephew. “And this is Esmeralda Brandybuck, my wife, and my nephew, Frodo Baggins.”

Cherryhill pointed at Frodo with a distraught look on her face. “I remember you, down in the Chambers to the Philosopher’s Stone.”

Esmeralda whispered to Frodo, “She means the Sorcerer’s Stone.”

“Ah.” Frodo understood what she meant.

Cherryhill said, “Look, if you’re looking for an autograph, you won’t get it from me. And I don’t expect one from your nephew. Good day.”

“Can’t we talk?” Saradoc asked quickly. “I was your student.”

“I remember your nephew more than you,” said Cherryhill, snooty. “But if your nephew is asking about Sauron, I don’t know anything.”

Frodo was stunned, instantly realizing the lie. “Yes, you do. You just said you were down in the Chambers to the Stone with me.”

Cherryhill looked down. “Please go away.”

“What aren’t you telling me?” asked Frodo.

“Let’s go. She isn’t going to help.” Saradoc advised, putting a hand on Frodo's shoulder.

“No, wait. Let me talk to her, just for a moment,” Frodo insisted. He approached Cherryhill’s bed. “Professor Cherryhill, I understand you don’t want to talk about what happened down in the Chambers. But I need to know Sauron’s fate, in your own words.”

Cherryhill paused, seemingly considering. Frodo almost breathed a sigh of relief when Cherryhill said in a low murmur, “Sauron escaped. He tortured me at Hogwarts, ever since I’ve been there. He escaped and I don’t know where he went. I’ll never go back to that school. Never ever, ever!” her voice got more and more panicked.

“He escaped?” Frodo asked, “How? I was unconscious.”

“Oh boy, you don’t understand. The minute Dumbledore showed up, Sauron fled my body and then left the Chambers. No one’s seen him since,” explained Cherryhill. “If there are any more questions you’d like to ask me, go right ahead. Otherwise, have a good day.” Despite her words, Frodo could tell that she didn't really want to discuss the topic anymore.

“Well, thank you. I’ll leave you to your tea,” he said, standing up and walking away.

As soon as Frodo approached her and Saradoc, Esmeralda asked, “Are you ready?”

Frodo nodded, “Yup.”

Saradoc said, “Good. We have a few more stops to make.” He gestured for Esmeralda and Frodo out the door. Once they were through, Saradoc listened as the healers locked the door behind them.

It was then that Kanker appeared. “Oh!”

“You’re late, Kanker.” Frodo told the House-elf.

Kanker apologized, “Kanker is sorry. Kanker took a shortcut and got lost on the way to the hospital. But Kanker had a feeling you’d be here.”

“Come on. Let’s go.” Saradoc murmured softly.

“You got lost?” Frodo asked Kanker as they walked.

“Kanker doesn’t want to talk about it.” Kanker said, sounding somewhat sheepish.

“Are you sure?” Frodo asked, hoping nothing had happened to the House-elf.

Kanker nodded several times.

“Well, all right,” said Frodo.

To his surprise, Kanker suddenlyburst into tears, “Kanker got lost! Kanker doesn’t know what to do or – oh, Kanker should mind his own business.”

“What’s with you today?” Frodo asked him, confused.

“Oh,” said Kanker.

Saradoc spoke up,“Kanker can be a little on edge at times.”

“Unless there’s something he’s not telling me,” Frodo wondered.

“Well, give him time.” His uncle advised.“He’ll get whatever he needs to sorted. You’ll see.”

Frodo said nothing. Whatever was on Kanker’s mind would have to wait.

Together, the hobbit family and House-elf journeyed through St. Mungo’s Hospital, completing errands for Uncle Saradoc and Aunt Esmeralda. Frodo became bored a few times; in the end, he was given a few tasks to complete, which helped take his mind off his own deep thinking. It was certainly a busy morning.

Returning to Brandy Hall by mid-morning, Frodo rushed into his bedroom and sat down at his writing desk. It was time to write his letter to Aria. Using a clean sheet of parchment, Frodo dipped his quill into the ink bottle and wrote his letter to her:

_July 31, TA 2980_

_Dear Aria,_

_Well, after a long morning of errands, I’ve made it back to Brandy Hall safe and sound. I’ve met with Professor Cherryhill and she certainly is a crotchety hobbit witch… excuse the pun. I did learn from Cherryhill that Sauron escaped just after Dumbledore arrived. She said Sauron left her body and then vanished out of the Chambers to the Stone. We don’t know where he is or what he’s up to. Chances are that Sauron may return to Hogwarts if Voldemort does, but that is my guess._

_How are you doing? Although, I’m sure you’ll tell me at Diagon Alley, when we get our supplies and books for our second year at Hogwarts. I’ve missed talking to you in person. Write to me when you can. I look forward to hearing from you._

_Talk to you soon._

_Your friend,  
Frodo_

Convinced he wrote a fairly good letter Frodo folded it up, placing the letter inside a clean envelope. He sealed it with red wax, before passing the envelope to his brown owl Prim. Prim took flight, disappearing through a portal in the air. Frodo only needed to wait a moment or two before Prim returned with an enclosed envelope, in the seal of the Author’s House, which had the emblem of an open book and a quill on top of the scrawled paper. Grinning to himself, Frodo opened the envelope and read the letter inside:

_July 31, 1992 A.H.T._

_Frodo,_

_I just received your letter. You mean to tell me that Sauron is back! No, I’m overreacting. Of course Sauron isn’t back, but he escaped the Chambers to the Stone after all. That can’t be good. I hope Sauron doesn’t cause problems at Hogwarts. But then, I already have a bad feeling what might happen at Hogwarts this coming school year. I won’t tell you. Instead, I’ll let you find out for yourself._

_I’m doing good, but Amy, or DoctorWhovian18, and Abigail, or LOTCR, had to go and pull a prank on a few Head of Houses. It didn’t end well, as a large group of toilets started regurgitating and leaving a mess in the Girls’ Bathrooms… or rather just one bathroom. Anyway, not much is going on other than Anne, or ValueMyHeart, has been having really good conversations with me and the other authors and authoresses. SweetDarkSilence certainly knows who she is. They’re roommates. As for my roommate… well, she moved out. Apparently, she moved on from the Harry Potter series and had to be moved to the next Authors’ House, specifically designed for Doctor Who fanatics that focus just on Doctor Who. It was a mess, but I’m glad it’s sorted out. Throughout the term this year, I get the dorm room to myself! I’m so excited, but also scared. I’ve never had a dorm to myself before. It’s a big step, but I’d like to see how I do._

_I think I’m doing all right. Boy that was a long paragraph._

_Anyway, I’m still waiting until we get our letters from Hogwarts. It should be an interesting second year. I just know it will._

_Talk to you at Diagon Alley. I don’t know when I’ll be able to send another letter in-between that time. But I do hope you keep sending letters to me, Frodo, even if I can’t send letters right away._

_Your friend,  
Aria, or Maisie_

“I prefer Aria. Sounds more like you,” Frodo said aloud, re-reading the letter and snickering. Oh, how he loved it when Aria spoke to him. Wait, was that… no, this was too awkward.

Frodo sighed. Girls were just too complicated. He knew he was getting closer with Aria...but as a flash of Pearl Took's rather pretty face flew through his mind he wondered whether he felt anything for her or not. At his young age, was he even meant to be feeling anything for girls yet...He wished there was a manual for such things.

“Is everything all right, Frodo Baggins? Kanker will look after you. Kanker always does. Does Frodo Baggins need a leg warmer?” asked Kanker, rushing to get a clean hot towel.

Frodo called to him, slightly amused but also touched at the House-elf's care, “No Kanker! You’ve done more than enough.”

Kanker shrugged. “Kanker is delighted to help serve Frodo Baggins.”

“I know you are,” said Frodo. He just hoped Kanker was doing all right.

As the House-elf bowed and left, Frodo wondered when hewould get his Hogwarts’ letter. He wasn’t sure, but he knew it was coming soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realize this chapter may seem rushed, and I know it acted that way. At times, it didn’t feel that way. Also, this is the first time, when not reviewing, that my beta-reader DoctorWhovian18 has beta-read a chapter. So, I’d like to thank her now for beta-reading this chapter. I think I’ve done all right, and I think it’s smoother than it was the first time I revised and wrote this fifth chapter of this story.


	6. Return to Diagon Alley

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again. I was just looking through some of my older writing, even those from a few years ago, and there were some things I’d forgotten that could help make my writing better or back to where it should be. I’m terribly sorry for the awkward sentences and such. I guess I was trying something new. Anyway, this chapter was beta-read by my friend and fellow writer DoctorWhovian18, as well as ideas given to me by her and the hobbits.
> 
> Also, with their permission, the following fanfic writers/authoresses have made their appearances in this chapter: ValueMyHeart, SweetDarkSilence, DoctorWhovian18 and LOTCR. As it turns out, I'll be keeping in sync with Fanfiction.net for this story, too. Meaning I put this story and _The Rival Houses_ back on Fanfiction.net. I guess I didn't want to part with the series on Fanfiction.net just yet, but it's only these two stories.
> 
> One more thing, this story is in the third person, just like the previous story, only now that I have showing down for writing, I’m going to try to get my writing to third person limited, with it focused on Frodo Baggins, as he is the lead. Naturally, other characters will have their povs, but what’s important right now is getting to one pov at a time. That is my next focus in improving my writing.

On the second week in August, Frodo received a letter from Harry. It was the first letter he had received from Harry, which brought with it a hint of anxiety and nervousness. He couldn't wait to finally get an answer as to why Harry hadn't contacted him all holidays, so he wasted no time in opening the letter and reading it, though he was still at the breakfast table.

_August 12 th, 1992_

_Frodo,_

_I know you will get this letter sometime today. I wanted to let you know that I am doing well and safely away from the Dursleys. The Dursleys were really horrid this summer, locking up all my school supplies and my broom, even putting a lock on Hedwig’s cage. Anyway, I’m at the Weasleys now, at their home the Burrow. It’s really different from the Dursleys; there’s so much I can do here with Ron and his family. Although, Ginny, Ron’s sister, acts odd and nervous whenever she sees me._

_Ron and I just received our Hogwarts’ letters. A majority of the books were written by Gilderoy Lockhart, with only one book, The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 2, as the only book not written by him. Fred and George said Lockhart’s books are expensive. Of course you got money, too, Frodo; so we don’t need to worry about that. I wonder if you got your Hogwarts’ letter, too, for this year. Hermione says she’s coming to Diagon Alley next week with her parents. Maybe we can all meet up on that day and catch up._

_I wonder how Aria’s doing. I know she was down in the Chamber, too, with us and I just hope she's okay. I got her letters, too, and she says she’s fine, but concerned about you and losing your parents. I can relate; so, if you ever need to talk to someone, I’ll be here._

_Hope your summer goes well. I look forward to meeting you at Diagon Alley or at Hogwarts, whichever way it is._

_Your friend,  
Harry_

_P.S. The Weasleys are planning on heading to Diagon Alley next Wednesday. I figured you should know when we’ll be there. It’s the same day Hermione’s going to be there. I haven’t heard yet when the authors and authoresses will be at Diagon Alley, but I know it will be sometime before September, when school starts._

Frodo re-read Harry’s letter to himself. This letter was sincere in every way, and especially made up for the gap between Frodo’s farewell to Harry and now to the last month of summer. Frodo looked up at his aunt and uncle, grinning sheepishly at either one. Nestled on Frodo’s lap was the envelope from Harry but also Frodo’s school supplies that he would need for Hogwarts. Of his school supplies listed, above the regular curriculum were a few things extra Frodo needed to get for his second year at Hogwarts:

**Second-Year Hobbits Will Require:**  
_A Beginner’s Guide to Creative Writing_ ,  
by Ellis Thatcher  
_Schematics of Grammar and Spelling_ ,  
by Louie Harding

“You received a letter from your friend?” Esmeralda asked, and Frodo could tell she wascurious about his thought-filled silence.

Frodo shook his head, realizing she thought it was from Aria, “No, it’s a different friend, one who I haven’t spoken to since before I left Hogwarts. He, Harry Potter, told me that he, the Weasleys, and our friend Hermione are heading to Diagon Alley on Wednesday. Ironically,” Frodo showed his aunt and uncle the second letter that lay on his lap, “it’s the same day the authors and authoresses are heading to Diagon Alley. Aria said that would be the week when Gilderoy Lockhart is doing his book signing.”

“Gilderoy Lockhart.” Esmeralda smiled in a daydreaming way.

“Should I know?” asked Frodo to his uncle, while confused by his aunt’s disposition.

“You aunt has this fascination towards Gilderoy Lockhart. She has all his books,” Saradoc murmured softly, holding a hand to one side of his mouth, as if hoping Esmeralda wouldn’t notice. But Frodo did notice, and nearly let out a chuckle.

“Yes I do,” Esmeralda said aloud, ignoring her husband and turning to Frodo. “We’ll be leaving for Diagon Alley next Wednesday anyway, Frodo. I want to make sure we get Gilderoy Lockhart’s latest copy and your school supplies then.”

“It's notas if I have a lot to get,” Frodo pointed out, shrugging his shoulders.

“Even so,” she told him a bit firmer, “we’re heading to Diagon Alley.” She paused momentarily. Relaxing, Esmeralda informed her nephew, “By now, you’ve inherited your parents’ wizardry money. No hobbit here has hold of that.”

“Does this mean all that money belongs to me?” asked Frodo, wondering if this news was true.

“That is true. We made sure no one got their hands on it.” Saradoc admitted, “That money is yours now. Do with it what you will.”

Frodo was astonished. He never worked with money before. Many possibilities were open to him now. He could buy whatever he wanted. He… well, maybe it was better that he save that money for when it mattered most. There was no point in wasting wizard money, when he had so much.

“And don’t waste your wizardry coins on junk, Frodo,” Esmeralda raised her voice a pitch, as though reading his mind. Frodo knew she was too concerned for her nephew’s well-being. She had to be in this instance.

“Don’t worry,” Frodo said, chuckling, “I won’t spend it all.”

“We’ll make sure of that,” Saradoc's gaze was serious. Frodo knew that his uncle was quite lenient when it came to getting junk food or wizardry treats, but for some reason Saradoc was much stricter with Frodo. He supposed his uncle was a bit more protective over him and just wanted Frodo to eat healthily and learn restraint. Frodo briefly wondered if his aunt would be less strict, but those hopes were dashed with Saradoc's next words.“As I’m going with you and Esmeralda next Wednesday.”

“Oh!” Kanker appeared in the parlor, jumping back a little on his entrance.

“Kanker!” Frodo was excited to see the House-elf. “Where have you been?”

“I hope he’s not teaming with the Sackville-Bagginses,” Saradoc’s gaze was suspicious towards Kanker.

“Oh, well… goodbye!” Kanker vanished from the room.

Frodo stood up. Was Saradoc’s suspicious guess true? Frodo couldn’t believe that. Kanker was a loyal House-elf… too loyal, but the House-elf kept his place. Unless there was something he missed about Kanker. Didn’t Kanker say that he was Drogo’s House-elf before him? Frodo began to wonder whether Kanker was still a House-elf to another master.

Returning to his bedroom, Frodo set his letters on his writing desk before taking a seat himself in front of it. Just as he was about to write his next letter to Aria, Frodo heard a whiz, followed by a loud bang and his Aunt Esmeralda’s complaining about gnomes in her garden. Ignoring the complaints, knowing by now that gnomes invaded some gardens surrounding Brandy Hall once or twice a week, Frodo scrawled on a piece of parchment his plans to Aria:

_August 12 th, 2980 TA_

_Aria,_

_How are you? I just received a letter from Harry and Hogwarts. So, I assume you’re still traveling to Diagon Alley next Wednesday. So am I, along with my Uncle Saradoc and Aunt Esmeralda. I’ll see you there. And it’s fine if you write me another letter ahead of time._

_Your friend,  
Frodo_

Frodo stuffed the letter inside an envelope. Sealing the envelope, Frodo passed it to Prim, who flew through a portal. When Prim returned, Frodo received a message from Aria:

_Frodo,_

_See you there._

_Aria_

Frodo chuckled. Oh no. He was doing it again. Why did he get this funny fluttering feeling whenever he was in contact with Aria? It confused him so much, but he also enjoyed the feeling. He couldn’t wait for next Wednesday. Besides becoming reacquainted with Aria, Frodo would have his chance to ask Gilderoy Lockhart a few questions about _The Hobbit_ book. It was time for some answers.

o-o-o

Frodo nearly forgot what day it was until Kanker roused him. Realizing it was Wednesday, the day he would travel to Diagon Alley, Frodo this time opened his Hogwarts wardrobe. To his surprise, he found a cloak with the Ravenclaw emblem on the front. Changing into his regular Hobbit clothes, Frodo took the cloak with him out to the dining room, where Esmeralda fed him a quick breakfast. Frodo downed the food, doing his best not to choke, and put on his cloak. Following Esmeralda into the parlor, Frodo found his uncle waiting for them.

“I’ll wait here for your safe return, Frodo Baggins,” said Kanker timidly, zooming down the hallway.

Esmeralda asked Frodo, once the House-elf was out of the room, “I trust you know how to get to Diagon Alley using the doors.”

“My parents showed me last year,” Frodo admitted, shrugging his shoulders.

“Well, we Brandybucks have a more interesting way to go,” Saradoc turned away from the fireplace, “And no, we’re not using Floo powder.”

“Floo powder?” Frodo asked, confused.

“It’s what wizards and witches, sometimes Hobbits too that have magical abilities, use when accessing the fireplaces,” Esmeralda told her nephew, “Our way is much simpler.”

“That’s why we call it the rabbit hole portal,” Saradoc moved a rug back, revealing a trapdoor. Frodo, from where he stood, watched the swirling vortex come from the centermost part of the whirlpool. He looked up, as his uncle gestured to his aunt and him, “Wife and nephew first.”

Esmeralda took Frodo’s hand. “Come on, dear.”

“Right,” said Frodo, staring nervously into the swirling, sparkling blue vortex below them. He called, “What happens when we reach the bottom? Where do we come out?”

“Well, we have to still think of the place we want to go. That’s the idea behind them,” Saradoc shrugged his shoulders.

“Come on, Frodo,” Esmeralda called to Frodo.

In one bound, Frodo and Esmeralda leapt into the swirling vortex. Frodo felt an immediate, sensational rush of blue waves. All he could see was blue, which changed in different shades: from ocean blue to deep royal blue. Yet Frodo’s mind helped remind him of Diagon Alley. He knew exactly what alley to go. In a manner of minutes, Frodo came out of the portal, grasping Esmeralda’s hand tightly and landing face-first in the middle of a stone street.

Looking about him, Frodo recognized the different shops and Gringotts Bank. Frodo had made it to Diagon Alley. Realizing his aunt was standing over him, her hand white and turning numb, Frodo released his grip on her. Saradoc landed gracefully on the stone street. He was in a chipper mood, something that surprised Frodo.

“Tricky landing?” asked Saradoc, giddy from the sensation of the portal. “I’m not surprised with this being your first time, Frodo.”

“I realized that, uncle,” Frodo said jokingly. Grateful for his aunt’s assistance, Frodo stood back up on his feet; however, he was annoyed when his aunt started fussing with him. Honestly, why did girls have to be so fussy over clothes? Frodo gazed over at his uncle, who closed the trapdoor leading to the Rabbit Hole portal.

“Frodo!” called a familiar feminine voice.

Had it really been so long – BONK! Frodo took a step or two back in a dazed confusion. What had just happened? Oh, now he understood, as Aria also felt her forehead for bruising. All the two received was a small red lump on their foreheads.

“Wow Aria. What an entrance,” Frodo told her, half-amused and half in pain.

“Sorry,” Aria told him, sheepish.

“Aren’t you going to introduce us to your friend?” Esmeralda asked, causing Frodo to stand at attention, as if he had done something wrong.

“Right, I am,” Frodo led Aria straight to his uncle and aunt, “Aria, this is my Uncle Saradoc and Aunt Esmeralda. Uncle, Aunt, this is Aria Breuer, my friend and also my authoress at Hogwarts.” He couldn’t believe how calm he was behaving. Yet there were still butterflies… Okay, maybe he had feelings for Aria… oh, everything was still too complicated. What were feelings anyway?

“Pleasure to meet you, Aria,” Saradoc shook Aria’s hand, which was firmer than Aria’s grasp.

“Your exchanging money, aren’t you?” Esmeralda pointed to Aria’s twenty dollar bills.

“I just got here. The authors and authoresses that are students at Hogwarts were told we could do what we wanted, as soon as we arrived,” Aria explained with a hint of shyness, something Frodo wouldn’t forget.

“We’re heading to Gringotts now, if you want to join us. Besides, I’m sure you and Frodo have catching up to do,” Saradoc gestured towards Gringotts. As they walked, Frodo gazed back at his uncle and aunt, who were walking hand and hand. He thought about doing the same to Aria, but then… he didn’t know how she would react.

“Have you seen Harry, Ron and Hermione anywhere… or perhaps Sam, Merry, Pippin, Fredegar and Folco?” Frodo asked Aria, as they drew closer to the goblin bank.

“No, and it’s not even busy right now,” admitted Aria. “If anything, I’m sure we’ll see them at Flourish and Blotts sometime this morning.”

“Well…” Frodo kept Aria moving as they entered Gringotts Bank, “I was hoping to meet them now.”

“Dawn isn’t over yet, Frodo,” said Aria, yawning. She approached a teller, “Anyway…”

“Frodo, hurry along!” Saradoc called to his nephew.

“All right, uncle,” Frodo called back. He turned his gaze to Aria, “I’ll be back. Meet us here, all right?”

“Okay,” Aria nodded. She knew she was good at following orders. Frodo himself had a feeling Aria would listen to this one simple task.

Nodding to Aria a few times, Frodo soon followed his aunt and uncle behind a Gringotts goblin to the door, leading to the underground vaults. Frodo admitted to himself that the journey to his uncle and aunt’s vault first was a swifter than his journey through the Rabbit Hole portal. It wasn’t that Frodo minded the Rabbit Portal; in fact, he found that venture a much easier flight than the cart he was seated in now. With the cart ride through the underground part of Gringotts, Frodo felt a wave of motion sickness. He didn’t notice it his first time through, but now that he was traveling through Gringotts again by cart the motion sickness was more noticeable. He did his best to hold on tight to the seat’s railing, closing his eyes as they traveled speedily through the tunnels and cavern, until they made a full stop at his uncle and aunt’s vault.

Inside the vault, Frodo was amazed at how many Galleons, Sickles and Knuts his Uncle Saradoc and his Aunt Esmeralda owned. Frodo could only guess that it was because his relatives were rich, richer than he imagined. Of course, he didn’t need to do anything as Saradoc and Esmeralda grabbed however many Galleons they needed for their shopping trip. Next stop was Frodo’s vault, which had just as many Galleons, Sickles and Knuts as the Brandybuck vault, with the amount of wizarding money being fairly balanced between the two vaults. Frodo stuffed as many Galleons, Sickles and Knuts as he could inside his breeches’ pockets. Frodo figured his best bet was to have a larger amount of Galleons with him, as he didn’t know how much the books by Gilderoy Lockhart would cost.

And so began their quick journey back to the entrance hall. Frodo didn’t have to look long, for Aria stood a ways from the doors leading out to Diagon Alley. Aria was pleased to see Frodo again, which caused butterflies to enter Frodo’s stomach for the second time that day. No, he needed to think of something else, and yet a goofy smile crossed Frodo’s face. He was embarrassed, blushing red when Aria giggled at him. Honestly, she acted like such a girl sometimes.

“Frodo, Aria, you do what you want. But when it’s twelve-thirty this afternoon, meet us at Flourish and Blotts,” Saradoc explained.

“That way we can meet Gilderoy Lockhart and get your books as well,” said Esmeralda.

Frodo checked his wrist watch, the one his Uncle Saradoc had given him back in July as a welcome to Brandy Hall present. It was already nine o’ clock. That mean he and Aria had three and a half hours to do whatever they liked. Frodo peered over at Aria, but all he could see was her giddy absentminded expression.

“Gilderoy Lockhart,” Aria did her best to contain herself, but found herself giggling a little. Frodo couldn’t help but grin back at her. This felt awkward, and he knew it.

“So we meet half an hour after noon,” Frodo said, keeping his voice low.

“Yes, my lad, twelve-thirty,” Saradoc repeated.

“Well, shall we leave Gringotts now?” Esmeralda asked, gesturing to the front doors.

The four stayed together until they were outside Gringotts. Wasting no time, Saradoc and Esmeralda departed for Madam Malkin’s shop, leaving Frodo and Aria to their own business. Frodo knew he had three hours to find his other friends. Only he wondered where everybody else was. His only conclusion was maybe they were out shopping. He cocked his head, deciding that it was better to leave matters lie. He would probably run into them while shopping, and he would be sure to recognize his friends.

“So where did you want to go first?” Frodo asked Aria, making sure to keep her attention focused on the present.

“You’re asking me?” Aria was surprised by this question. Frodo was stunned. Surely she knew which way to go. Taking a good look around, Aria decided, “What about Eeylops Owl Emporium?”

“You already have an owl, Aria,” Frodo told her, mildly annoyed.

“Yeah, I know,” Aria made a quick recovery, “but I need to get some more owl treats.”

“In that case, I’ll come with you,” said Frodo.

“Aren’t you already coming with me?” Aria asked, confused.

“You know I am,” Frodo teased her, bumping her a bit with his arm.

Walking down the cobbled street, Frodo led Aria straight for Eeylops Owl Emporium. Opening the door for her, Frodo followed Aria inside the owl shop, where they encountered cages filled with all sorts of owls, from every shape and size. Their trip inside the shop didn’t last very long: only a few minutes. Frodo felt a rush of relief, even though it didn’t show much on his face but in his heart when Aria found the proper owl treats for Hedwer. Waiting in line didn’t last very long either. Even though Frodo would have proposed to pay for the owl treats for Aria, he allowed her the chance to pay for the owl treats herself. They left the shop in good humor.

The next shop they entered was Florean Fortescue’s Ice Cream Parlour. While it was fairly busy, there was still plenty of room for Frodo and Aria to decide their ice cream choice for that morning. Frodo figured he should check out the ice cream parlour for himself, seeing as he didn’t get much of a chance to explore with his parents. Frodo figured now that he only needed to get his school books, and there was plenty of time to spend around the alley, this was his chance to see what ice cream this parlour had to offer.

“What are you having?” Frodo asked, curious. He explained to Aria, “You better tell me now, so we can get our orders.”

“I’ll have a medium cherry ice cream. It sounds good right now.” Indeed it was, for Aria’s mouth watered. Frodo knew the feeling, as he wondered how the ice cream would taste here.

“I can’t argue there,” agreed Frodo, in a delightfully chipper yet hungry mood. Approaching the counter, and waiting for Aria to follow him, Frodo gave their orders to Mr. Fortescue, “I’ll have a medium strawberry-and-peanut-butter ice cream, and my friend will have a medium cherry ice cream.” Grabbing his Galleons, Frodo paid for the wizardry treats.

Minutes passed before Mr. Fortescue handed to Frodo and Aria their ice cream. Finding a table to sit at, Frodo sat down across from Aria. Taking the first bite, Frodo tasted a cool sensation of smooth peanut butter, mixed with fresh strawberries. It was a sensation that made his mouth water, allowing him to eat a couple more bites. He glanced over Aria, embarrassment reflected on his face.

“Don’t get a brain freeze, Frodo,” Aria added, making a quick recovery, “that is if you eat ice cream too fast.”

“Hmm,” Frodo said between bites, “I think I’ll manage.” He stopped upon feeling a painful sensation reach his skull, forcing him to stop for a moment and recollect himself.

“I told you,” Aria told him, casually. "I remember a friend telling me that if you push your tongue onto the roof of your mouth it'll help with the brain freeze."

“Yes you did,” Frodo replied, doing what she said and finding that it worked. He wasglad to free of the pain in his head. Deciding to take slower bites, while making sure his ice cream didn’t melt, Frodo asked Aria, “So, how’s your ice cream?”

Aria nodded. “It’s good.”

“That’s good,” Frodo also nodded, allowing his eyes to gaze at Aria. She looked so pretty, so… then he remembered his place before his mind could become even more distracted, quickly retreating to his own little world that involved the sweet confection of ice cold sugar and cream.

Frodo soon returned his gaze to Aria, who was giggling in embarrassment. Shaking his head at her, Frodo eventually broke out into a little laughter all his own. The merriment of their laughter made Frodo’s heart soar with joy. He hardly understood girls, but Aria he was beginning to feel more confident around her, more himself. That’s what mattered in his mind, being himself. He only hoped Aria felt the same, but then – for this moment – the troubles of the world didn’t matter; just that Frodo was with Aria was all that counted.

The two friends did eventually eat their ice cream down. Once they had their fill of ice cream, knowing their medium ice cream cones were enough for the time, Frodo led Aria outside the ice cream parlor. They had spent an hour there and were now looking forward to what else lay in Diagon Alley. Frodo checked his watch the moment they were outside: two more hours left before he had to head to Flourish and Blotts to get his books.

“So, where to now?” Frodo asked Aria, curious about her next destination.

“Gambol and Japes? I’ve been meaning to head into their shop,” admitted Aria, anticipation growing in her eyes.

“Me too,” Frodo smiled at her, in his best smile.

Frodo reaction set Aria on a giggle spree, if only for a few moments… typical, in his mind, for a girl to behave. He let it slide this time, walking beside Aria and embarrassing himself all the same. So far, everything was going swell. Now it was time to head to Gambol and Japes, but also to see if Frodo and Aria’s friends were there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now with the Rabbit Hole Portal, yes the idea came from “Once Upon A Time In Wonderland”, but all that’s left of the White Rabbit’s portal is just that; so obviously my portal is different than the White Rabbit’s portal. I hope everyone enjoyed this chapter and our re-introduction to Diagon Alley. :)


	7. Flourish and Blotts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy October everyone. :) Due to it being October, this time of month might be where I focus most on this story. So, we’ll see what happens. Also, LOTCR’s idea is coming up and will appear throughout this story, clear to the end. It was a brilliant idea, actually. This chapter was beta-read by DoctorWhovian18, so we should thank her for that.

Gambol and Japes Wizarding Joke Shop certainly lived up to its name. The moment Frodo opened the front door for Aria, he could hear her gasping in awe. Frodo wasn’t surprised by Aria’s gasping, but he had to wonder why she always gasped. Entering the joke shop, Frodo too found himself in awe and delight. Throughout the shop were peculiar joke items, tubes complete with tops, which were very colorful in reds, blues, oranges and yellows – Aria told him those were fireworks, but it only made him more confused – and many good pranking items. Frodo was stunned.

“I could live here,” Frodo said, admiring the shop.

“You’re serious?” Aria asked, quizzical.

“I’m joking,” Frodo told her, giving Aria a sheepish grin.

“You’re joking in a joke shop?” she asked, sounding amused.

“Yeah,” Frodo grinned all the more. “Well, let’s take a look around. But I know I’ll be buying some joke supplies here.”

“Will you?” Aria asked, as Frodo led her over to a shelf.

“Why not?” Frodo peered at one of the joke items in curiosity.

“Well… hmm,” Aria fell silent. At that, Frodo looked over at her, wondering what was wrong.

“What?” he asked, confused.

“Nothing,” Aria replied, as if shooing the thought away.

“No. What were you going to say?” Frodo asked, this time determined to find out the answer.

“With your parents gone, don’t you want to take it easy on the pranks?” Aria asked in return. Even though she was sheepish and clearly didn't want to upset him, the very thought of his parents brought uneasiness in Frodo’s mind. Frodo felt some relief when Aria made her small recovery, “I’m sorry. I know you’re still taking it hard. I mean, my parents are still alive, well and all. Oh!” she cried at the end, sounding frustrated with herself.

A small grin crossed Frodo’s face. Still, he wondered when she would ever face her own battles without needing to apologize for it.

“Aria, you’re forgiven.” Frodo admitted to her, “Yes, it’s still hard for me to talk about my parents, being only a few months into realizing they’re gone. I don’t know how many pranks I’ll do, but I know it won’t be as many as I used to do. I’m not feeling up to it this year, not as much.” He added, “Just please don’t take it too hard. It’s not your fault. It’s no one’s fault.” He paused, lost in his thoughts for a moment. “I’m just going to buy a good amount of joke items. Please let me do this. Having some fun will also help me cope.”

To Frodo’s surprise, Aria fell silent and in turn, she practically let him buy whatever joke items he wanted to. It was hard to believe and a bit out of character for her, but then Frodo wondered if she was always like this around people she was comfortable with. Once he had a decent amount of joke items, he and Aria headed over to the front desk, where he paid for the joke items. It was only when they left Gambol and Japes that Aria announced, softly, to him:

“I need to get some more parchment and ink.”

“Oh. That’s where I need to go next,” Frodo told her, pleased with the idea. “All right. Let’s head to Scribbulus.”

“Okay,” said Aria, nodding to him.

Frodo checked his watch again using hand magic. They still had an hour and a half, plenty of time to get what other essentials they needed for their trip back to Hogwarts. He had a very hard time resisting going into Quality Quidditch Supplies, but he did stand there for a few moments staring at the front window, which contained a complete set of Quidditch robes. He caught Aria’s glare, making his skin crawl. Honestly, why did she have to look at him like he had gone mad?

“Frodo!” Aria told him, annoyed and a little loud. Her annoyance was a little daunting and a bit cute. There he went again, thinking about her cuteness. Was there ever really a dull moment with her?

“Can’t I look?” Frodo asked, sheepish. He gazed at the Quidditch robes and then back to Aria a couple of times, admitting with a heavy heart, “Well, we’ll see if I’m interested in playing another game of Quidditch this year.”

“Oh, right,” Aria said, understanding.

Gesturing to her to follow, Frodo led her straight into Scribbulus Writing Instruments. He was hardly surprised to see nearly all the authors and authoresses inside this writing shop. The place was swamped. He turned when Aria waved to her friends, ValueMyHeart/Anne and SweetDarkSilence. Immediately, he felt a rush of relief. He knew their friends would be here.

“Come on,” Aria told him, leading the way. Frodo was stunned when she pulled him by his wrist over to Anne and SweetDarkSilence. The gesture made his heart flutter, causing him to become awkward all over again. Honestly, he really needed to check his heart to see if it was fine. Lucky for Frodo, Aria went wide-eyed and released Frodo’s wrist. “Sorry about that.”

“It’s all right,” Frodo replied, doing his best to collect himself.

“Frodo, how are you?” asked SweetDarkSilence.

“I’m doing well,” Frodo said, blushing red in embarrassment towards Aria.

“So I’ve heard.” Anne explained to him, “Aria told us what happened, with your parents.”

“Oh, she did?” Frodo turned his gaze to Aria. Had she blabbed to everyone before he had a chance to explain himself? He had to find out. Sharply, Frodo asked her, “How many of our friends did you tell, before I could tell them myself?”

“Well, only a few of our friends. I knew the authoresses would want to know, as they areour friends. So I told them, especially, and Harry,” Aria blushed sheepishly.

“Uh huh,” Frodo was convinced. Surely there were more people Aria told, but he let the matter rest for now. Figuring the conversation wasn’t going very far, Frodo told Anne and SweetDarkSilence, “Well, we’ll see you at Hogwarts.”

“And we’ll see you at the Authors’ House, Aria,” said SweetDarkSilence to Aria.

“Bye,” Anne waved to the two.

“Bye,” Aria waved back. Instantly, Frodo dragged her away from the two.

“All right, Aria. How many people did you tell about what happened to my parents?” Frodo asked her, determined for some answers.

“I told you, the authoresses we know and Harry,” Aria stopped when Frodo gave her a quizzical, knowing expression. She blurted, mumbling a little loud, “Okay, the authoresses, and Harry and his friends. Well, I figured you would tell Sam, Merry, Pippin, Fredegar and Folco.”

“Aria, I was going to tell them myself, in my own time,” Frodo admitted, flustered.

“Well, I thought they should know,” Aria gave a sheepish look.

Frodo heaved a sigh. Oh, if only things were simpler. “You realize I have to answer to them now.” He asked, curious, “You didn’t tell Sam, Merry, Pippin, Fredegar or Folco, did you?”

“I figured I would leave them to you to decide when to tell them,” Aria said, still sheepish.

“Which may be very soon,” Frodo replied, a little stressed.

“Come on, Frodo. Something like this shouldn’t be done alone. You need to grieve.” She recovered. “I was only trying to help.”

“I know you were. I’m sorry, too. All you’re doing is being a friend.” Frodo added, after briefly thinking it over and realizing that she was right, “I shouldn’t be yelling at you like this. You were doing the right thing.”

“So, we’re square?” Aria asked. Frodo didn’t know how to respond to this, that is until she asked again, this time changing her words, “I meant, are we good now?”

“We’re good,” Frodo nodded her way.

Their conversation was cut short by a fierce squeal. Frodo gazed around in search of source. He found the squeal belonged to Abigail, or LOTCR, who was staring giddily at a new journal. Amy Collins, or DoctorWhovian18, soon got Abigail’s attention. The two waved him and Aria over. Realizing they were in no danger, except for the constant barrage of fans amongst the hobbits’ authors and authoresses, he took Aria’s hand and dragged her over to them.

Just by holding Aria’s hand, Frodo found his heart skipping a few beats. The room felt a little hotter than normal. Just what were these feelings he was having? What did they mean and why couldn’t he think of the word to describe what he was feeling towards Aria? This was all very confusing.

“Frodo, how are you?” Amy asked, taking immediate pity for the hobbit boy. “I know what you went through with your parents is shocking and all, but I want to make sure you’re all right. And we’ll all pitch in and help because we’re your friends. Don’t grieve alone, Frodo!”

“Don’t worry, Amy. I won’t.” Frodo pulled Aria in, wrapping an arm around her. Even though she wasn't in danger, he liked the thought that he could keep her safe. Although he didn’t ask it, he still felt obliged to protect her. She looked so fragile.

“Eh,” Aria grunted, embarrassment overwhelming her.

“Aww, that’s so sweet,” Amy replied, staring sweetly at both Frodo and Aria.

“Tell me about it,” Abigail’s gaze was still focused on her new journal. She showed it to her friends at once. “This is the new Doctor Who journal. It has the 10th Doctor on the front.” She squealed in delight. Frodo was beside himself with worry.

From the 10th Doctor’s face and spiky brown hair, Frodo did not understand how the doctor – given his rank – could compare to Harry Potter, let alone himself. By now, Frodo figured he had earned some respectability among his peers, given the events in the Chambers to the Philosopher’s – sorry, Sorcerer’s Stone. Then again, with the new school year coming, Frodo did not know what would happen next at Hogwarts. It would be worth the wait.

“I’m sorry. Who are we talking about?” Frodo asked, confused.

“The 10th Doctor,” Abigail was shocked. “Every fan knows who he is. Haven’t you heard of him?”

“No,” Frodo spoke at the same time as Aria. Facing her, he began to wonder how similar they were. Still, he had to admit Aria was his closest friend at Hogwarts. He continued to stare at her, wondering what else she would say.

“We should introduce you two to Doctor Who sometime. It’d be really cool, the show,” Amy told him and Aria, as if expecting to do just that.

“I don’t think so. It sounds weird,” Aria admitted. Although he had to admire her for protecting him, Frodo’s curiosity got the better of him.

“What show? What is a show, actually?” Frodo asked, confused.

“This is not a good idea, guys,” Aria said, hoping to be heard.

“Why not?” Abigail asked, confused.

At first, Frodo though Aria would defend herself. Instead, he saw her back down, as if she was too scared to voice her defense. He knew he would have to break Aria out of her shell more, but… this was ridiculous.

“Can’t you defend yourself?” Frodo asked Aria, concerned. He received no response from her. He turned to Amy and Abigail, letting them know the conversation had ended, “Well, we’re going to get our supplies and leave this shop. It was nice meeting you.”

“Well, we’re going to be at Flourish and Blotts to buy our books and Gilderoy Lockhart’s signatures. We’ll meet you there,” Amy informed them.

“All right. We’ll see you later.” Frodo led Aria towards the stacks of fresh parchment. The crowd was starting to thin, which meant relief for him and, from the look on Aria’s face, her too. Once they were alone, he asked her, bluntly, “Aria, what’s going on? First, you don’t defend yourself in front of your friends, and now… look, I won’t always help you win your battles. You’ve got to face them on your own at some point.” He thought his advice would help; however, Aria became more skittish and flustered. A bad sign on his part. What had he done now?

“No, I know.” Aria was behaving so calm, but she sounded slightly annoyed. Frodo was surprised at her. “I’ve got to be the hero of my own story at some point.”

“Did I say something wrong?” Frodo asked her, concerned for her now.

Aria shook her head. “No, you didn’t.”

But that wasn’t enough to convince Frodo. Something was up with Aria, but whatever she was up to she remained tight-lipped. He would find out what that was soon enough, or maybe later. Checking his watch again, Frodo found that some time had passed. They had been chatting and it was now closer to the hour in which he and Aria were supposed to head to Flourish and Blotts to collect their books.

Once they paid for their writing supplies, Frodo led Aria out of the shop. He checked his watch using hand magic. They were still early. Although he wasn’t that concerned with the time, the second he told Aria she freaked out. Maybe it was better to relieve her by heading to Flourish and Blotts. However, when they reached the bookshop, there was already a crowd of witches gathering. Unsure how they were going to get inside, Frodo took Aria’s hand and slipped through the crowd.

The shop’s interior had two stories, filled to the brim in bookcases and tables with books. Some books were thin and carried some weight, but there were also thicker and heavier books. Knowing their mission, which was to find the books they needed on their lists, Frodo grabbed _The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 2_ , before helping Aria and himself collect the rest of the books. Although he was glad she didn’t need to get any beginner’s textbooks, as she had five books and each had a different thickness, they each had to get _How Sindri the Dwarf Conquered Gold, by Sindri the Dwarf_. The title was ridiculous. He hoped they wouldn’t have to meet this Sindri in person, but then who knew.

“Eh, do I want to know?” Aria asked, catching Frodo’s eye. He hardly missed her concern.

“I’m not sure I want to.” Frodo exclaimed, “On top of my other books, I need Sindri’s as well. I don’t even know who Sindri is.”

“Same here,” Aria told him, gesturing forward. “Come on. Let’s find the others.”

Figuring he could wait to get Lockhart’s books until it was time to get them, Frodo followed Aria in search of his aunt, uncle and their friends. Although they did spot Amy, Anne, Abigail and SweetDarkSilence, the two found they were keeping a distance from the front desk, where the book signing was taking place. However, they were fortunate enough to find Frodo’s aunt and uncle waiting up front with the Weasleys and the Authors’ Head of House. He was surprised that Aria stuck to him like glue.

Minutes later Harry Potter, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger snuck up to the front line as well. Frodo couldn’t be any happier to see them than he was at that moment. Just as he had the chance to wave at them, a wizard photographer scooted up front, carrying a large black camera.

Gilderoy Lockhart came into view, taking a seat behind the table. Just behind him were moving pictures of him, flashing white teeth at the crowd. As for the real Gilderoy Lockhart, he wore blue forget-me-not robes, ones that matched his eyes; his wizard hat sat at a jaunty angle on top of his wavy hair. Frodo shook his head in disbelief and disgust. This was the wizard he was getting his textbooks from. Turning to Aria, he stared at her in confusion. She looked so lost in her own world, leaving with it an embarrassing giggle here and there. Did she actually see something in Lockhart? Still, the wizard photographer kept snapping pictures of Lockhart with his camera.

“Out of the way, there,” the wizard photographer snarled at Ron, moving back to get a better shot. “This is for the _Daily Prophet_ –”

“Big deal,” said Ron, rubbing his foot where the photographer stepped on it.

Frodo continued to stare around, that is until he heard Gilderoy Lockhart shout, “It _can’t_ be Harry Potter, Frodo Baggins and Aria Breuer?” Just like that Frodo felt Lockhart’s arm snatch him by his jacket, pulling him behind the table next to Harry and then Aria. Frodo found himself amazed at how quickly everyone recognized him. He found himself givinga wide smile, even as Lockhart told the crowd, “Ladies and gentlemen, this is the perfect opportunity for me to make an announcement.”

Frodo wanted to get away from Lockhart as much as Harry; however, he and Harry were pulled into Lockhart’s arm and grasp, even as Aria was pulled in on Lockhart’s other arm. “Young Harry and Frodo will have me as their teacher, for I shall be taking up the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts. As for my complete set of books, I am giving them to young Frodo, Harry and Aria free of charge.”

Handed to Frodo, on top of his four other books, were copies of Lockhart’s books. Returning to the Weasleys and his aunt and uncle, before Frodo had a similar idea to Harry’s, Esmeralda took Frodo’s copies of Lockhart’s books off his hands. “I’ll take those, Frodo, and get them signed.”

“You mean I have to keep them?” Frodo asked, whispering in her ear. He was already disgusted by the notion of keeping the books.

“Why yes, dear. We’re certainly not buying you copies, if you already have some,” Esmeralda told him. “Why don’t you wait with your friends?”

“I think I’ll pay for the books I have.” Frodo showed her the four books in his hands.

“Very good,” Esmeralda grinned.

“It’s your money, Frodo,” Saradoc reminded him.

Frodo watched his aunt and uncle as they made their way towards Lockhart. Then it dawned on him. Returning to Lockhart, Frodo asked him, “Sir, you wouldn’t know who J.R.R. Tolkien is? The one who wrote _The Hobbit_. Did he ever time travel between worlds? What kind of a man was he?”

“Yes, that is a question you’ll have to ask Sindri when you see him.” Lockhart gave a flashing smile his way.

“I was hoping you would tell me,” Frodo said, suspicious of the wizard author.

“I am telling you. Ask the dwarf. Sindri! Now please, Frodo, run along. I have books to sign.” And that was all Frodo would get out of Lockhart.

“Right. Thanks for your time.” Frodo walked off, making a beeline for the front desk. He was almost there, about to pay for his books when…

“Well, look who’s turned up here.” It was Lotho Sackville-Baggins and he wasn’t happy. “Frodo Baggins, is it? I would have thought, since your little battle down in the Chamber that you would avoid crowds. Seems I was wrong.”

“Hello Lotho. What are you doing here?” Frodo asked him, hoping to resolve this issue quickly.

“Why wouldn’t I be here, Frodo?” Lotho snarled, clearly hoping to make a good impression. “I’m here for the same reason you are: to collect my books. Isn’t that why we’re here? Oh wait, now that you’re famous, maybe you’ll buy my books.” Frodo turned upon seeing Aria advance towards the front desk. “And if it isn’t the little authoress, Aria Breuer. Tell me, Aria: do you enjoy being Frodo’s slave?”

“She’s my writer.” Frodo told him in Aria’s defense. “Not my slave. I would appreciate it if you showed some respect.”

“Ah, so she’s your girlfriend.” Lotho’s gaze fell on Aria. Frodo didn’t like it when Lotho was happy. It always meant something was up with him.

“My what?” Frodo asked, confused.

Lotho let out a laugh. “Oh surely Baggins, you know what a girlfriend means. I just figured it out from my parents not too long ago. They told me every detail.” He looked up. “Right dad?”

Frodo spun around towards Aria. Peering up, he saw an elderly hobbit with graying hair. This hobbit wore typical hobbit garb, which made him stand out just as much as any other hobbit present. Frodo knew this hobbit was Otho Sackville-Baggins, Lotho’s father. In Otho’s hand was a worn leather diary.

“Well, it appears I missed quite the show.” Otho turned to Aria with a crooked grin. “You could use a journal to write down your thoughts. Why not take mine, child?” He passed to her the worn diary, setting it on top of the stack of books. He gestured to his son, “Come on, Lotho. We have other places to be. Your mother has already found your books.”

“Coming father,” Lotho called back.

Frodo’s silent exchange with the hobbit boy was filled with glares and sneers. Whatever Otho gave Aria, Frodo hoped it wouldn’t harm her. But then, it did look like an ordinary worn diary. What was the harm in that?

Once their books were paid for, Frodo met with his aunt and uncle. From here, he said farewell to Aria, before she departed with the other hobbits’ authors and authoresses back the way they had come. As for Frodo, he, Saradoc and Esmeralda traveled through the Rabbit Hole portal back to Brandy Hall. The whole journey was over before he knew it, and with it came his school supplies, which ended up in a heap. Kanker arrived in the parlor shortly after the trapdoor was closed by Saradoc. Frodo wondered what kept the House-elf.

“Oh, does Frodo Baggins need help?” Kanker asked the lad. “Kanker is very good –”

“I’m fine, Kanker. Thanks.” Frodo brushed himself off, eager to focus on putting all his supplies away.

“So, shall we drop all your school supplies in your room and then eat luncheon?” Esmeralda asked the group.

“I would like that,” Frodo admitted.

“Come on, Frodo. Help me with your things,” Saradoc told him, picking up a few packages.

Frodo was relieved when he returned to his bedroom. Piling his supplies on his bed, he took a look around for a few moments. Somehow, Brandy Hall was already feeling like home. No, what about his parents’ home? It had been sold to a hobbit family. He couldn’t have it back. He guessed this meant he would have to make a new start in Brandy Hall after all.

“Frodo, it’s time for luncheon!” Esmeralda called.

“Coming Aunt Esmeralda!” Frodo called back. Taking one last look in his room, he darted back out into the hallway. He wasn’t about to miss lunch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know. This is another long chapter. Somehow these Diagon Alley sequences wanted to take up two chapters. Well, I did have to get Gilderoy Lockhart into the chapter. Oh, I do hope Frodo doesn’t go on a wild goose chase over J.R.R. Tolkien and The Hobbit. Anyway, onto the next chapter, and I hope you’ve enjoyed this chapter. :)


	8. On the Hogwarts Express

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the long wait. Life took up my time and I’ve barely had time to write recently. But now I’ve gotten back into it. So, let’s see where this chapter goes. Thanks goes to DoctorWhovian18, over on Fanfiction.net, for beta-reading this chapter. :)

For the rest of the week and into the last week of the summer, Frodo spent time in his bedroom, reading his textbooks before the journey back to Hogwarts for his second year. He poured through his new spell book with pleasure, wondering what spells he would learn for the year and whether they were all required. He figured he might as well test them all. And of course, he still had his textbooks from his previous year, which he felt free to skim through again. While he wasn’t sure about Gilderoy Lockhart, his books he found all right. Sure, they had some obnoxiousness to them, but he let it pass. He would wait to form an opinion on Lockhart until he saw him as a teacher at Hogwarts.

“Does Frodo Baggins need any help?” asked Kanker.

“No Kanker. I’ll be all right. Thank you for asking.” He figured he should remain on good terms with the house-elf.

“Well, if Frodo Baggins is aware of this Dobby the House-elf, Kanker will gladly keep him off Frodo Baggins’ back this year.” He explained.

“Who’s Dobby?” Frodo asked, confused.

“Kanker just said he’s a house-elf. Kanker serves Frodo Baggins and… oh, Kanker has said too much.” He darted out of the room before Frodo could say anything.

As far as he knew, Frodo could only guess that the house-elf had his own business. He didn’t want to bother the house-elf, but then Kanker’s secrecy was something that wasn’t difficult to notice. He would get to the bottom of this matter one way or another.

o-o-o

The end of summer drew near. On the last evening, Frodo didn’t receive a going away feast. Instead, it was just a regular dinner, but there was something special at the end: a cake made by his aunt for him. There weren’t any candles on the cake, but it was still a nice gesture. He was happy, partly because he was nearly finished packing. Even if the rules were different, he wouldn’t miss getting on the Hogwarts Express early, before the other students, as long as it meant he would get the good compartment first.

Later that evening, after writing a letter to Aria and mailing it via his owl Prim, who returned shortly afterwards with a reply from his authoress, Frodo slept fitfully that night. He did wake up once after a dream involving Harry and Ron being blocked from the passage to Platform Nine-and-Three-Quarters. He hoped the same wouldn’t happen to him.

Unable to get back to sleep, he went to the bathroom. Finishing up in there, Frodo got dressed in his hobbit casual clothes; by that time, he could smell breakfast cooking on the stove. His stomach growled with anticipation. He darted into the dining room before anyone else was present. With him were his trunk and his cage, where Prim hooted in alert. He shushed her, in an effort not to wake the house. Returning to the table, taking his usual spot, he looked up as Esmeralda arrived with a few dishes filled with breakfast. He waited until his aunt brought two plates out for him, before he filled his plate with eggs, sausage, bacon, ham and toast.

“You excited for the new term?” Esmeralda asked, curious.

Frodo nodded vigorously. “It should be great.”

“I know you’ve been sending letters to your friend.” Frodo wondered if she meant Aria. This proved true when she told him, “You two must be close.”

“We went on an adventure together.” He shrugged at the thought. “I just want to make sure she’s doing all right. We talk regularly.”

“Well, eat up. We have to leave for Platform Nine-and-Three-Quarters after you’re done. Hobbits who get to the Hogwarts Express early get first pick.” She admitted.

“What time are we leaving?” he asked.

“At eight o’ clock sharp. I’ve already told our relatives about it, and they’ve agreed to make breakfast for the rest of the family. That’s why we’re eating now,” she explained.

Frodo’s gaze fell on the window. Dawn was now on the horizon. Not much longer until he had to leave Brandy Hall for Platform Nine-and-Three-Quarters. A question formed in his mind: “How will we get there? Kanker’s still asleep.”

“By the front door.” She said as an explanation, “Don’t worry, Frodo. Your Uncle Saradoc’s keeping an eye on Kanker.” Frodo looked at her in confusion. She was being cryptic. However, he didn’t press her on the matter.

“Right.” He took a sip of orange juice, digging greedily into his eggs.

When they finally stopped talking, eating breakfast was a much faster task. As soon as breakfast was over for Esmeralda and Frodo, Frodo darted off into the bathroom one last time. He returned in a mad rush into the parlor, only to find his trunk and his owl were already on a trolley in the entrance hall. Grabbing the trolley’s rail, he closed his eyes, opening them as soon as his aunt rang the gold bell and opened the door.

Standing before them was Platform Nine-and-Three-Quarters, and there on the trail was the Hogwarts Express in its full glory. Hoping not to miss the train, Frodo ran through the barrier. He was amazed he crossed it, for the floor changed under his feet from wood to stone. Suddenly worried that maybe the barrier could've changed his Hobbit-ish appearance, hechecked his ears, which were still pointy. Sighing in relief, he momentarily checked to see if his feet were still hairy, and they were. Everything about him appeared to be the same, besides the fact that his height was the size of a twelve-year-old boy from the Race of Men, and naturally boys from this race were in different heights. He just had a short stature.

Frodo looked back at his aunt, just after she closed the hobbit-made door, resting her hands on his shoulders. She too had the full-grown height of an adult woman. While he wasn’t bothered by height, he was still amazed at how different everything was in the Wizardry World, including for hobbits. Not bothering to stand in the same place any longer, he used his hand magic to check his watch: it was 8:30 a.m., and as usual there was a small gathering of parents and their children. He had the feeling it would be more crowded as the morning wore on.

Hurrying over to the nearest compartment door, Frodo swung it open. He was stopped by his aunt, who waited for a hug. Knowing this would be the last time in the next four months they would see each other, he gladly gave this request, embracing his aunt tightly. He was surprised his uncle wasn’t present, but then he understood his reasons. Still, he had to ask her:

“I wish Uncle Saradoc was here.”

“He has a busy morning on his hands. He won’t be able to come with us every time,” she explained. The second he released her, Frodo wiped a tear from his eye. He felt embarrassed just showing it. And yet, his aunt gave him encouragement, “Good luck this year, Frodo. I love you.”

“I love you, too,” he said, turning to the trolley.

Taking his trunk and his owl, Frodo climbed up the carriage steps, entering the train. He inhaled, taking in the familiar train smell. Oh, how he missed it. Arriving in the second compartment, which was empty, he opened the door and slid inside. He set his trunk and his owl on the seat, leaving the compartment moments later to wave goodbye to his aunt from the nearest window. The moment lasted for a little while. Only when the compartment started to fill up with students did he move away, returning to his compartment. He nearly slid the compartment door closed when Aria rammed inside, eager to see him.

“Have room for one more?” Aria asked, setting her own trunk and her owl on the opposite seat. Frodo gazed at her, realizing she was still shorter than he. And yet, he didn’t let it bother him.

“Hullo Aria, it doesn’t feel like it’s only been a week and a half since I last saw you,” Frodo admitted. “Where are the others?”

“Wandering the corridor of the train. They should be here soon.” No sooner had she spoken that they looked up at the open compartment door. There were Frodo’s hobbit friends: Samwise Gamgee, Merry Brandybuck and Pippin Took. It was a sight for sore eyes, but there was something different about Merry.

“My birthday was August 25th. I just turned twelve,” Merry spoke up in excitement.

“And you can’t stop talking about it either,” Pippin muttered with a grin, as they entered the compartment with their trunks and their animals.

“Sam, where’s your cat?” Indeed, Frodo realized that Sam’s female Siamese cat, Cotton, was missing.

“My sister’s cat, Mr. Frodo. Cotton is safely in Marigold’s arms. This is her first year at Hogwarts,” Sam admitted.

“Well, if everyone’s in the mood, I think we should all change into our Hogwarts robes and uniforms,” Merry said.

Closing the compartment door and the blinds, Frodo found it a mad effort for everyone to get changed. It came to a quick agreement that they take turns getting dressed: Frodo and Aria going first. Although Aria was uncomfortable changing into her Hogwarts’ robes in front of a bunch of boys, the hobbit boys made sure not to look at her, but for Frodo the temptation to look was there. Honestly, he felt different around his authoress, something he still wasn’t sure about. They did manage, and when the two were done Frodo gladly helped her put her trunk up on the rack. He was glad to have his hobbit friends around, who could reach the top racks. As for the others, they too changed into their Hogwarts robes at the same time; when they were done, like Frodo and Aria’s trunks, theirs went on the top racks too.

Relieved to have more room, while paying attention to their animals, the five friends took their seats. As it happened, wherever Aria sat, which was by the window, Frodo sat next to her; beforehand, he moved Hedwer next to Prim, so there was room for them to sit together. It was a terribly awkward moment, broken by Sam, Merry and Pippin who sat on either seat.

“We’re sorry we missed you, Mr. Frodo, at Diagon Alley,” Sam apologized.

“The twenty-fifth was my birthday. It was great, huge party. You were there, Frodo, older,” Merry said, giddily.

“It’s all right, Sam. Aria was there the same day I was,” Frodo returned his gaze to Aria, who blushed sheepishly.

“Ah,” Pippin nodded, winking at him.

“Nothing happened. It was just a friendly time between friends. Besides, I saw your authoresses there, too,” Frodo looked at his three hobbit friends.

“We saw them, too,” Merry and Pippin said in unison.

“They’re wandering through the corridors. Amy and Abigail are determined to prank Lotho and Malfoy,” Merry explained. He sighed, causing Frodo to look up at him as he said, “We should prank them, after what Lotho and his dad did to you and Aria.”

Aria shrugged. “It’s no big deal.”

“What about you, Frodo? Fancy a good prank on Lotho?” Merry was eager to get Lotho back.

Frodo gave a small, slightly bitter smile. “I’m not in the mood to prank him. I lost my parents this summer.”

“Oh, that’s right. You told us what happened,” Pippin said, empathetic towards him. “Maybe we can prank Lotho at Hogwarts.”

“Let’s prank him now.” Merry wouldn’t give up on this idea. “Come on. He’s on the train.”

“What about you, Sam?” Frodo asked, looking Sam’s way.

“Well… that’s up to Mr. Merry. But Miss Anne and I had a little conversation. It wasn’t much,” Sam explained.

Merry stood up. “Well, I’m going to prank Lotho. Who’s joining me?” Frodo wasn’t sure if he would pick him, but Merry did. “How about it, Frodo?”

“Yeah, why not?” Frodo stood up, looking at Aria. “Aria?”

“I’ll stay here. I’m not in the mood to prank,” Aria was very serious there. However, Frodo glanced at Merry and Pippin the second they burst into laughter. This set Aria off, at which he heard her say, “I’m serious.”

“We know,” Pippin smiled at her.

“Let’s go, Merry,” Frodo had about enough, dragging Merry out into the corridor.

Frodo hadn’t gone far down the corridor when he heard Aria announce his way, “Good luck!” He grinned to himself. At first, he thought he wasn’t going to be caught, but Merry told him, once they were out of earshot:

“Frodo, you have an admirer.”

“What?” he asked, confused.

“Oh, come on, Frodo. There’s chemistry between you and Aria.” Merry asked him, confused, “There is chemistry, right?”

“Is this the right question to ask?” Frodo asked in reply, feeling very uncomfortable. Unsurprised, he told Merry, “Let me guess, your parents told you what chemistry means.”

“Yes they did.” He asked his friend, “Why? Who told you?”

Frodo shrugged. “No one. Although, Lotho told me flat out he learned everything about puberty from his parents. I met him at Diagon Alley. That’s where I heard him say it.”

“Okay,” Merry fell silent. Frodo wondered if he was uncomfortable hearing about this. However, he was stopped by Merry, who turned him towards the front. “There’s Lotho. Give him a good prank.”

“You’re not helping?” Frodo asked, spinning around before Merry had the chance to flee.

“You do the honors. Call it ‘getting the year off with a bang’, as Fred and George would say. I’m going to find them right now, and bring Pippin with me.” Merry made a small bow and darted off back in the other direction.

Leaving Merry be, Frodo advanced towards his school enemy. A prank… what prank could he pull on Lotho Sackville-Baggins? Pulling a prank to get the year started wouldn’t be an easy task, but he had to try. Lotho looked too happy to see him.

“Frodo Baggins! What brings you here, on this train? I thought you would be at home or smooching your authoress, Aria Breuer.” Lotho cracked a mischievous smile.

“Lotho, you’re a sight for sore eyes.” Frodo stopped his hobbit enemy before he pressed further, “Speaking of sore eyes, Lotho do you need a tissue?”

“A tissue? Frodo, my eyes aren’t sore,” he placed his hands on his hips, wondering what new prank the shorter hobbit would pull on him. This was the last thing he expected, especially at the start of the new term.

“On the contrary, Lotho, I think you need one. Did you forget your handkerchief before you left the Shire?” Frodo asked. He wondered if his last-minute prank idea would work.

Lotho checked his pockets. At first, Frodo didn’t know whether to go on with the prank, that is until Lotho said these next words, “Now come to think of it, I did leave my handkerchief at home. I’m sure I’ll send my mother an owl, telling her…”

“Here.” Frodo pulled out his handkerchief, but it was one he pulled out using his hand magic. “Use mine.”

“This isn’t a trick. You’ve pulled enough on me last school year,” Lotho told him, taking the handkerchief.

“Oh no, Lotho.” He pointed out, “Your nose is runny.”

“Oh, it is. You’ll have to forgive me, I’m just getting over a cold,” Lotho placed the handkerchief to his nose and blew.

Frodo chuckled behind his teeth as several goodies floated in the air, coming from the handkerchief. Some of the floating objects included sweets and toys, which entered the compartments in bubbles. He watched Lotho blow more and loudly, sending more objects into the air. The students in the train screamed and laughed in excitement, but wondered where the objects came from. Frodo looked about him as he came to realize they had figured out the culprit. He chuckled to himself, even as the students laughed at Lotho.

“What did I do? What –” Lotho saw the gifts in the bubbles and knew. He complained towards Frodo, “Foiled again! Why did you do that, Baggins? I’ll get you for this!”

But Frodo had run down the corridor, back to his and his friends’ compartment. Re-entering, he sat down next to Aria, who was now reading a book, which she put away inside her satchel before he had the chance to find out its title and what it was about. Looking about the compartment, he realized that they and Sam were the only ones present.

“You’re happy,” Aria said, looking up at Frodo.

“Didn’t you see the presents, floating in the air?” Frodo pointed out a few gifts in the small, medium and large bubbles.

“I got a couple of good presents. Where did they come from, Mr. Frodo?” Sam asked, revealing his armful of gifts, already popped from the bubbles.

“Consider them a gift from Lotho.” Frodo whispered aloud to Sam and Aria, “He sneezed them out, from the handkerchief I gave him.”

“He – what?” Aria asked, disgusted. “Frodo, that’s disgusting!”

“I agree,” Sam tossed the gifts onto the carpeted floor. However, before the gifts reached the floor, Frodo used his hand magic to make them disappear. Sam shook his head. “Now Mr. Frodo, do you have to use your hand magic?”

“Sam, we’re hobbits with magic.” He grinned. “Why shouldn’t we use it?”

Sam paused. “I don’t know…”

“Hey look!” Aria announced, causing Frodo to snap his head her way. She was pointing at the window. At first, Frodo thought it was nothing but the trees she was pointing to, that is until she announced, “It’s a flying Ford Anglia. Harry and Ron are inside the car!”

“Miss Aria, don’t you be makin’ up stories,” Sam told her, concerned.

“No, she’s right. Look,” Frodo also pointed to the window.

There was indeed a flying turquoise car flying just outside their compartment window. And in the driver’s seat and passenger’s seat were Ron and Harry, respectively. That wasn’t fair! Harry and Ron in a flying Ford Anglia – that was obviously the name of the car; Frodo’s jealousy towards Harry had grown now, but it was a different jealousy. It was one of actually wanting to drive a flying car. However, he noticed his heart racing inside his chest. He had forgotten how close he was next to Aria, squishing her in to the window.

“Frodo,” Aria let out a small squeak. “You’re kind of close…”

Frodo backed away, returning to his seat with blushing red cheeks. He’d never been that close to a girl before… well, the previous year there were moments when he was close to Aria. Still, he was becoming a bit more confident around her, as if she was one of the boys, but he knew she was a girl and respected that. Boy, did that make him blush harder.

Returning his gaze to the window, Frodo watched the Ford Anglia as it climbed higher into the sky, vanishing from the landscape for a time. He did not know when the car would return, but inside he felt the need to drive a car, the thrill of having the wind in his face, the smell of a cool breeze billowing his hair… wait, was he really that interested in machinery? He’d been at Hogwarts too long, and yet he wouldn’t miss his second year for anything.

Although, he nearly missed the food trolley lady make her rounds. While Sam bought a liquorice wand for him and a cauldron cake for himself, Frodo bought two chocolate frogs – since Sam didn’t want one and passed one to Aria, who nearly forgot to thank him. After eating the chocolate frog in a hurried pace, with Aria’s chocolate frog nearly getting away on her, he and Aria looked at their wizard cards. Frodo’s was the usual standard hobbit wizard card of Otho Sackville-Baggins, while Aria’s was a standard wizard card of Timothy the Timid. It was interesting seeing what cards they received, but Frodo was a little disappointed to receive Otho’s. And yet, thanks to Aria’s suggestion, he found it best to keep Otho’s card so his collection wasn’t broken.

By the time Merry and Pippin returned to their compartment, they brought with them Fredegar Bolger. Frodo was surprised to see him, given Fatty – as that was Fredegar’s nickname – usually wandered about the train’s corridors around this time. From the look on Fatty’s face and the fact that he was also already dressed in his Gryffindor school uniform, he could tell that whatever business Fatty had to do he knew it must be important.

“Fatty, what brings you here?” Frodo asked, curious.

“The conductor says we’re almost at Hogwarts. By the way, did anyone notice the flying car?” asked Fatty in return.

“It was out the window,” Aria announced suddenly, having been quiet for a while, “hours ago.”

“Thank you, Fatty,” Frodo said, nodding Fatty’s way.

“Well, I’m going to find Hermione. I’ll see you all at the school.” Fatty turned to Merry and Pippin, “I’ll see you two at the Gryffindor table.”

“See you, Fatty.” Merry and Pippin said in unison, waving to the pudgy hobbit boy.

Fatty’s guess was as good as Frodo’s, given he could tell time by the sky. When the train slowed to a stop, Frodo waited until Aria was ready to go before following her out of their compartment. Aria grinned at him in relief, in turn Frodo also grinned. He could tell she did not like being last. He needed to get her out of this state. However, they weren’t last when getting out of the train. The fresh night air was a pleasant warm welcome back to Hogwarts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Next, we’ll be heading to the castle and the sorting of the first years, but Frodo is in second year… anyway, watch and wait for what’s to come. :)


	9. Start-of-Term Feast

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m sorry again about the long wait. I had a hard time figuring out what to do for this chapter, and after a few rewrites with beginning scenes, this chapter turned out all right. :)

Similar to the previous year, the students’ trunks and pets were left aboard the train. Frodo didn’t mind this rule, as long as it meant he wouldn’t have to drag his trunk and owl straight to Hogwarts. Only then, he would have helped Aria with her trunk and owl. Since that wasn’t the case, he let the matter rest.

“I wonder where we go,” Aria asked, causing Frodo to look about him.

“Firs’ years, this way!” Hagrid called.

Frodo turned as Hagrid approached. He nearly went with them if Aria hadn’t grabbed his arm. “We’re not first years.” She said, surprising him.

He started. “I know, but its Hagrid…”

“Frodo, we need to go this way,” Hermione said.

Frodo followed her gaze to a stone arch, leading into the Forbidden Forest. Taking Aria’s hand, he led her past the arch and onto a dirt path. The carriages were filling up. Not wanting to miss their opportunity to ride on one of the carriages, he climbed aboard alongside hobbits, witches and wizards. It was a tight squeeze for Aria, but he made sure she had enough room. Hermione joined them, much to his relief.

Looking over at the driver’s seat, he found there was no driver but a strange skeletal horse was pulling the carriage. What surprised him was that no one else paid attention to the horse. He wanted to say something, but gave up on the thought. The moment the skeletal horse pulled the carriage forward in the forest, he fell silent as did Aria. Only Hermione seemed in a chatty mood. It was the one time he did his best to listen to her, but much of his thoughts were on the skeletal horse. However, he couldn’t escape Hermione and Aria’s gazes:

“What are you staring at?” Hermione asked.

He didn’t respond for a moment or two.

“Frodo?” Aria added, getting his attention.

“Don’t you see that?” asked Frodo, pointing to the skeletal horse’s back.

“What?” she asked in return, confused.

“That horse.” He couldn’t believe Aria, his best friend, couldn’t see the skeletal horse.

“The carriage is magic, Frodo,” Hermione told him. “What could be pulling it?”

“Never mind,” he gave up on the subject. It was clear Hermione couldn’t see, but given the look Aria was giving him, Frodo had the feeling she would press the subject in the Ravenclaw Tower. However, he couldn’t press the subject further, due to Hermione not believing him.

o-o-o

The rest of the journey to Hogwarts was more of a quiet time. Sure, the hobbits, witches and wizards in the carriage greeted Frodo with delight, which he didn’t mind, but afterwards he spent his time speaking to Aria and Hermione. Most of the time was spent watching the new, familiar landscape of the Forbidden Forest, which was calmer than he guessed. Usually, the forest held a dark grimness to it, but not that night. As odd as it was, he found himself enjoying the ride back to Hogwarts.

Eventually, the carriage stopped before the castle doors. Sad it was over, yet glad to be back at the castle, Frodo climbed out of the carriage. On the ground, he extended a hand to Aria and Hermione, in an effort to help them down. Hermione did thank him, but it was Aria who made his heart skip a beat. Snapping out of this momentary trance, he released her hand, following her into Hogwarts.

Entering the castle, he was amazed how different the layout looked. He nearly panicked, until Aria gave him a reassuring hand. He came to realize that he may have a much better time finding his way through Hogwarts. Taking a deep breath, Frodo followed the second through seventh year students down the familiar halls, straight to the entrance hall. It wasn’t a long trek and, before he knew it, he was in front of the Great Hall. He felt calmer until he stepped inside the hall, where several pairs of eyes met his. He stopped when he nearly lost Aria; he found her fast, leading her to two empty spots. Folco Boffin sat across from them.

“Frodo, Aria,” Folco started, getting Frodo’s attention, “surprised that we’re back for year two? Makes you wonder how Fatty’s doing and Malfoy.”

“Malfoy?” Frodo asked, surprised. “Why should Malfoy interest you?”

“No reason.” He pointed to the Gryffindor table behind them. Frodo watched his gaze, as he said his next words. “It’s a good thing our table’s against the wall. Hopefully, the Gryffindors will keep us safe this year.”

“And keep us far away from Lotho and Malfoy,” he added.

Frodo was relieved by the new layout. At least Lotho and Malfoy would have a harder time reaching him this year, as far as the Great Hall was concerned. He breathed a sigh. Being in Gryffindor sounded like fun. Most of his friends were in Gryffindor, while he, Sam, Aria and yes Folco were in other houses. Would he have changed his house, if he wanted to? He hardly knew if that was possible. Looking at Aria, he understood: perhaps his place was in Ravenclaw. What interested him was that he, Aria and Folco were all sitting right next to the end of the table, where the first years would take their seats. What surprised him more was that Aria was straightening the utensils.

“What are you doing?” Frodo asked her, confused. “You don’t need to straighten those.”

“We’re going to eat, you know,” Folco blurted out.

Aria gave no response. In an effort to stop her perfectionist ways, Frodo grabbed her hand; not too hard, but just firm enough to give her the hint to release her grip on the fork. The effort worked, if only for a moment. He was surprised to catch her glare, before she continued messing with the knife, fork, spoon, goblet and plate.

“Aria, knock it off,” Frodo hissed, murmuring in her ear. This time, he had her attention. He watched her as she took her hands off the utensils. Although Aria did stop fiddling, her gaze reminded him of a wounded deer. He nearly felt sorry for her, but found himself being the mature one of their small group. “Aria, I was only trying to help.”

“I know,” Aria said, absentmindedly. “I’m sorry.”

He sighed. “You’re forgiven, but next time listen to when someone tells you something.”

“I’ll try,” she replied, apologetic.

“I know you will.” He gave a small grin her way.

“Should I know what’s going on between you two?” Folco asked.

Frodo looked down at his hand, which still clasped Aria’s. He released it, his face blushing red in embarrassment. Just as he caught Aria’s grinning blush, his gaze snapped to the door, where Professor McGonagall, with her hair tied in a tight bun and wearing her green robes, led the new first year students to the end of the hall. There it was: the sorting hat perched on a bench. His gaze fell on Gilderoy Lockhart, who was dressed in aquamarine robes. Momentarily keeping his gaze off the first years, Frodo’s attention fell on the Gryffindor table. Harry and Ron were still missing. Had they arrived at Hogwarts on time? Had something happened to the flying car? He hardly knew, but as he returned his attention to the staff table, he saw one chair unoccupied. Snape was missing.

“Where’s Snape?” Frodo whispered in Aria’s ear.

“I don’t know,” she said. It wasn’t the answer he was expecting to hear.

A thought occurred to him. “Maybe Snape’ll leave me alone this year.”

“I’m sure he didn’t quit, Frodo,” she replied, serious.

“He’s not everyone’s favorite teacher, except for the Slytherins,” he admitted. “He doesn’t like Harry or me.”

“Frodo, I’m sure this year will be all right,” she whispered.

“Shh, Dumbledore’s speaking,” Folco whispered a little too loud. Frodo stared at him, as did a few fellow Ravenclaws and students from other tables. However, he couldn’t stop Folco from piping up even louder, “What? It’s true.”

“Thank you, Mr. Boffin,” Dumbledore announced. Frodo stopped talking, as did Aria and Folco. With the silence now in the room, the Headmaster continued, “First years should know that the third floor corridor on the right-hand side is forbidden, that no magic is to be used between classes and in the corridors, and to remind those of you who like to wander…” Frodo could feel Dumbledore’s gaze on him, making him look down at his plate for a moment, “…that there is no wandering after hours and the dark forest is strictly forbidden to all students. Thank you.”

After his first year’s fiasco, Frodo wondered if the Headmaster’s rules would hold up. By that, he meant his usual wanderings with Harry, Ron, Hermione and now Aria, along with using his hand magic whenever he pleased. Looking at Aria, he had a feeling he wouldn’t get away with much… well, he would have to work on that with her.

Returning his gaze to the stool, he watched Professor McGonagall sort the first years: authors, hobbits, witches and wizards. Among the hobbits were Estella Bolger – Fatty’s sister – Diamond Took – whoever she was – and Marigold Gamgee – Sam’s sister. As they were called, the tables began to fill up. Estella ended up in Gryffindor, Marigold in Hufflepuff and Diamond in Ravenclaw. Diamond nearly became a hatstall between Gryffindor and Ravenclaw. It took a few minutes before the sorting hat decided to place her in Ravenclaw.

The sorting commenced with the final first year authors and authoresses sorted into their houses. These first year authors and authoresses were led out of the Great Hall by the Head Authors and Authoresses for each house. Frodo wondered what they were discussing, but let go of the subject.

Returning his gaze to the staff section, Frodo watched Professor McGonagall take the stool and the sorting hat over to a wall, where she left it; after which Dumbledore, after saying a few words, caused the food to appear on all the plates. Frodo, by now, had grown used to this sort of magic. But he was hungry, so having food in front of him was a good sign… oh. He grabbed a drumstick and chomped down on the meat. He peered over his shoulder, finding Aria gobbled down her food without much hesitation. Surprise melted away. It was good that she was eating.

“You look famished,” he pointed out.

“I don’t normally eat this much,” she said. He could admit she was right.

“Well, you’re eating now. This is good.” He replied between bites.

“You two eat like wild animals,” Folco told them. Frodo paused at the same time as Aria. Eh… was this necessary?

“Folco, let me eat,” she pleaded.

“I wasn’t stopping you,” Folco admitted.

“Yeah, Aria,” Frodo agreed, cheerful.

“I’m just so hungry, and Hogwarts has such good food.” She chomped down at another drumstick like it was nothing. Frodo let out a giggle. He wasn’t used to this Aria, but he was happy for her.

“Where’s Harry and Ron? They should be here,” he asked a second time.

“I don’t know,” was all he would get from Aria. Not wanting to bother her food time, Frodo let her be. The chicken was too good, but then so were the peas, the mashed potatoes and gravy…

o-o-o

Frodo walked up the stairs with sleepy eyes. He had eaten too much food. A stifling yawn protruded from his lips. Aria and Folco walked just a few paces behind him; like him, they were also tired. Making it to the door on the Sixth Floor Corridor, he opened it, but not before being a gentle-hobbit and letting Aria step through first. She gladly did so, but not without gazing back at him for a moment.

“Keep walking, Aria!” Folco cried out, nearly bumping into her. Frodo did his best not to laugh. It was hard since his hobbit friend nearly bumped Aria on purpose. Aria wasn’t amused, and it showed. He did his best to apologize to her, only to be slugged by Folco. “You too, Frodo.”

“Yes Folco,” Frodo and Aria said at the same time.

Letting the door slam shut behind them, Frodo led the way down the corridor. Although he just found out from a Ravenclaw Prefect that the Ravenclaw Tower had been moved down a floor due to Hogwarts’ reconstruction period in the summer, he began to understand that the castle was ever changing. Magic must have had some part to play in its reconstruction, which meant the same for his classes’ classrooms and other parts of the castle. It would be a new experience; one he wouldn’t take lightly. He could see Harry, Ron, Hermione, Fred and George at least. They just didn’t have common rooms on the same floor. That was the only sad part about this new structural arrangement.

Approaching the bronze eagle knocker, Frodo waited with the others until it became animate. Same as last year, the eagle knocker asked them a riddle: “I am purple but not too slow. I make people sick. Where do I go? Who am I?”

This was too easy. “You’re a giant purple toad, but with speed that’s far too fast for a snail.”

“Correct young Baggins.” The bronze eagle knocker was impressed. “You’ll go far in life.” The door was unlocked. Frodo smiled, glad to have answered the riddle right.

“Pippin was obsessed with toads last year,” he replied, gazing at his friends.

“Let’s go in.” Folco stepped in front of him and opened the door. Frodo, leaving his hobbit friend to it, gestured with a hand for Aria to go ahead of him. She did and once she was through the passage, he followed her.

The Ravenclaw Common Room was the same as last year with tapestries that were blue and silver. Midnight blue rugs scattered across the room, while blue couches and chairs were neatly decked out in the best way furniture could be arranged. The fireplace was lit up along the wall, while an airy breeze circumvented in the cracks in the ceiling. Frodo was home. The warm smile on his face didn’t leave, even when Folco darted up the stairs to the boys’ dormitory and Aria stayed behind to talk to him. Oh, how he missed this time with his best friend and authoress.

A thought popped into his head. When Aria was seated on one of the couches, Frodo approached her. Taking a seat next to her, he dared to ask, “Aria, this is going to sound odd, but there were creatures pulling the carriage. Skeletal creatures… I mean, Hermione couldn’t see them. Could you see them?”

“Hmm…” she paused. Frodo was worried until she said next, “I’m not going to doubt. I’ve seen things too. Things most people wouldn’t believe. Honestly, if we were going mad, we wouldn’t be sane to talk about this, but we are sane.”

“And so you did see it?” he asked her.

“For a moment, I thought I was going mad. But the creature stayed put. It didn’t go away.” She admitted to him, “It’s not the first strange creature I’ve seen, but I don’t see a lot of things. Last time that happened to me, I went through an invisible barrier, literally. And now I’m at Hogwarts and it’s still hard to believe.” She got to the point, being honest and truthful, “but yes, I saw it too. You’re not mad, Frodo. I would know if you are, but you’re not.”

“Thank you.” He felt his heart warm up inside his chest. It was the first time he’d been called sane by anyone, even when things he came up with were extremely mad. He had to admit he liked Aria now more than ever… wait. Why was he – no, this was all right. Or was it? He gave her another grin.

Frodo talked with Aria about anything that was on their minds. For their first evening back at Hogwarts, he right away felt like he gained a best friend. That was all that mattered in that moment and he didn’t want to think about anybody else. However, he did have to go to sleep. Bidding his authoress goodnight, he trudged up the stairs. When he found the boys’ dormitory, there was a sign posted on it that said **SECOND YEARS**. Indeed, this was the right dorm.

Opening the door, he found the same four-poster beds in the first room. Turning to his left, he discovered the adjacent room had the Ravenclaw authors; all five of them asleep in their four-poster bed with the blue curtains. Taking another left, and in a wide kitty corner room, he found two beds with midnight-blue covers. Folco was in the bed on his left, snoring.

Doing his best to keep quiet, Frodo found his wardrobe with the Hogwarts symbol etched on the double doors and opened it. There were two hangers set out on the rail, ready for him to set some clothes over them. Finding his trunk, he changed into his nightwear. Not wanting to risk his dirty clothes touching the hanger, he set them on the wardrobe’s bottom shelf. As he closed the door, a flash of light entered the wooden furniture. The second he opened it, his dirty clothes were gone. Where they went, he didn’t know, but this was the way of Hogwarts’ wardrobes. Leaving the door closed, he grabbed his other necessities and darted for the bathroom…

Returning his bathroom supplies back inside his trunk, Frodo darted into bed much faster than he thought. One of the authors briefly woke up, but returned to sleep a moment later. Sighing in relief, Frodo tucked himself in under the covers. It only took him a few minutes before his mind drifted off into deep sleep, in which he was getting up and traveling to Charms lesson on his first day. It wasn’t a very thrilling dream… well, it was thrilling. When he awoke, he found himself prepared to face the first official school day. And he hadn’t gotten out of bed yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, we’ve come to the first day at Hogwarts! We’ll see what happens next chapter and maybe meeting Luna Lovegood and Colin Creevey. Until next time. :)


	10. First Week of Term

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone. :) Yes, I finally got around to working on a rewrite for this chapter, and then next two. I figured these had to be rewritten because I was skipping around too much, instead of letting scenes flow. So, that’s the reason I rewrote this chapter and Chapters 11, 12 and 13. Hopefully, it’s better this time. :)

Following his usual morning routine, Frodo changed into his Hogwarts hobbit clothes. He loved the way his wardrobe changed to a different uniform… did he love the idea? He paid no heed to this. Today, he wanted to check up on Aria. Maybe she was hungry, too. That was a good excuse to head to the Great Hall with her. However, when he climbed down the steps and entered the Ravenclaw Common Room, he hardly expected meeting a blonde-haired first year girl, who sat on one of the blue couches, reading a magazine upside down.

“Hello Frodo Baggins,” the dirty blonde-haired first year said in with a distant smile. “I’m Luna Lovegood.”

“Hullo.” Frodo asked, politely, “Is this your first year?”

“Yes. Quaint, isn’t it? Hogwarts,” Luna asked, curious.

“It’s like a second home,” he said, shuffling his feet. He asked her next, “What are you reading?”

“The Quibbler,” she replied. Closing the magazine, she extended it towards him. “Here. I’ve got other copies.”

Hesitant at first, Frodo took _The Quibbler_ from her hands. On the front was a strange lion-like beast with a scorpion’s tail, in replace of its tail. He didn’t know what the creature was or why it was on the cover of the magazine. Still, it didn’t hurt asking Luna… only when he looked up, she had disappeared. It only took a matter of seconds before he spotted her, Luna wandered out of the common room.

He sighed… no. He would get another chance to ask… someone tapped his shoulder. He spun around, only to come face to face with Aria, of all people.

“Aria!” He exclaimed. “What brings you here?”

“I was coming down to see you,” Aria spoke at the same time Frodo asked his question. There was a momentary pause between the two, at which the hobbit boy proclaimed:

“Well, you go ahead,” Frodo said, gesturing with a free hand for her to continue.

“You’re reading the Quibbler,” Aria asked, pointing to the magazine in Frodo’s hands.

“Luna gave it to me,” he spoke, truthfully. “Luna Lovegood.” There was no response from Aria. He said, surprised, “Come on, Aria. You know what’s about to happen.”

“I’m only on… oh wait,” she said, remembering now where she was in the Harry Potter books. Frodo wasn’t surprised in the least.

“I thought you knew Luna. You’ve read about her,” Frodo inquired.

“Maybe,” Aria said, doubtful. Frodo knew she wouldn’t reveal too much to him. At least, he hoped she wouldn’t. He didn’t need to know all the details of Harry’s life or what his future would be like.

“Aria, I’m not replacing you,” Frodo said. He added with encouragement, “Come on. Let’s head to the Great Hall.” Wrapping an arm around her shoulders, Frodo led Aria out of the common room. As they descended down the spiral staircase, Frodo stopped mid-step. This reaction caused Aria to stop, and yet her expression was distant. He instructed her, by saying, “Aria. You know we’re friends, right?”

“Yes,” she said, softly.

“You can tell me anything. I’ll listen.” Frodo smiled at her, hoping Aria would come out of her doubting thoughts.

“Anything?” Aria asked, curious and suspicious.

“Eh…” Frodo was unsure how to answer. He grinned at her, thinking it was best that she didn’t reveal everything girly to him.

“Frodo, are you afraid to talk to girls?” She asked. It was a good question. Frodo could admit that much about the subject.

“It’s not that I’m afraid to talk to girls.” Frodo admitted, “It’s just… eh.” He was afraid now, and Aria was a girl. Maybe he was overthinking this subject. Maybe they should just switch to a different topic.

Aria giggled. Great. This is just what Frodo feared would happen. Aria persisted, happily, “Come on. We should head to the Great Hall, before breakfast is up.”

“Wow.” Frodo beamed a sweet smile at her.

“Wow what?” Aria asked, curious now. She moaned, cheerily, “Come on. I’m starving.”

Not saying ‘no’, Frodo chased after Aria for a time. By the end of their journey, they reached the Great Hall. Checking to make sure she was okay, Frodo led Aria to the Ravenclaw table. They were as early as they could come, but at least they made it. Finding an empty spot, they sat down right across from Folco, who looked like he had a rough sleep.

“What is it, Folco?” Frodo asked his hobbit friend.

“A nightmare?” Aria chimed in. Frodo returned his gaze to Folco, who ate down half a sausage.

Folco shook his head.

“Roommate trouble?” she asked further, much to Frodo’s surprise. Aria recovered fast, “Not trouble from you two, right?” She apologized, “I’m sorry. I was just asking.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Frodo answered, waving his hand in front of him a few times, in an effort to calm Aria down.

Aria bore a small grin. It was enough to convince Frodo that everything was all right between them. Frodo turned his gaze to Folco, who gave a quizzical expression. Clearly, there was something he knew that he wasn’t telling his friend. Confused, Frodo let the thought pass. Maybe he would figure it out later, but he didn’t know when or where he would figure out what Folco knew.

Time passed in the Great Hall. Soon, more students filed in to eat their breakfast or read the Daily Prophet. As they ate their fill of food, Folco opened up a newspaper, hiding himself in the morning news. This loud reaction stunned Aria and surprised Frodo. However, it was Folco who eventually set the paper down. Okay. Frodo wondered what was up with his hobbit friend.

“Folco, you okay?” Frodo asked a bit too soon, for Ron’s howler spat various, loud statements at him. The howler got everyone’s attention, or those present in the Great Hall, but it didn’t stop Frodo from nearly covering his ears, before doing the same for Aria’s ears sake. Minutes passed before the howler stopped its screeching, leaving Frodo, his authoress friend and everyone in the Great Hall in a pool of silence. He looked up and over at the Gryffindor table, wondering then if Ron was okay.

He snapped out of this state of mind, leading him and his friends to eat breakfast. It was good that the food on their plates was hot and scrumptious. For a moment, Frodo forgot he was at Hogwarts. The food was too good. Aria could agree, for she was gobbling the food up. Frodo smiled. He was glad that Aria was his friend.

When Professor Flitwick came around the Ravenclaw table, shortly after Frodo and Aria finished their morning meal, he passed out schedules to the students of his house. Frodo waited until he and Aria were given their schedules, before comparing his schedule to hers. For a moment, Frodo nearly thought they would have the same mess as they did the previous year. This year, the schedules were a little more organized.

It turned out that Frodo and Aria only had a few classes together, but it was better than last year. At that time, Frodo found out on the holidays that he had an authoress. Aria happened to be his authoress, but how she ended up chosen to be his was something he needed to look into. Maybe this year, he would find out the reason behind the Authors and Authoresses’ logic, how it worked.

Only one thing remained: get to class and be a good student. Grabbing their belongings, Frodo followed Aria and Folco out of the Great Hall. Folco was running ahead, bumping into students. Frodo chuckled behind his teeth. Well, he hoped his Ravenclaw hobbit friend would make it to class on time. As for Aria, he hoped that she would be all right taking classes with him. But then, given their first lesson was together, Frodo wondered if she was a witch, too, or had some magical abilities. Maybe he would find out this year if that was the case.

However, on their way to the Grand Staircase, a camera flashed before Frodo’s eyes. The camera belonged to a blonde-haired boy, a first year. Either way, he was determined to get a picture of him and Aria. But just who was this boy?

“Hi Frodo, Aria!” the boy introduced himself to them: “I’m Colin Creevey and I’m in Gryffindor, in the same house as Harry Potter. I hadn’t imagined meeting the Ring-bearer and his authoress. Frodo and Aria. Do you know that it’s possible to create moving pictures? I’m going to try my hand at it.”

“Hi Colin.” Aria said, frozen a little.

“Well, Aria and I need to get to class,” Frodo told Colin, doing his best to be polite.

“Oh, that’s fine. I’ll see you two later,” Colin said, giddily. Frodo waited until Colin had dashed off before heading into the Grand Staircase with Aria.

It was going to be a long school year. And it was only going to get better.

o-o-o

As Frodo sat in Defense Against the Dark Arts class, listening to Professor Lockhart’s speech on his adventures in the Wizarding World, thoughts crept up on the twelve-year-old hobbit boy. Thoughts of whether Lockhart actually went on these travels during the holidays, and whether the professor was all he said he was.

With classes resumed for this term, there was already so much going on that Frodo could hardly keep up. And yet, he performed splendidly, to the best of his abilities to get through the first week of his second year at Hogwarts. It was true, the only classes he had with Aria was Transfiguration, Charms and Herbology, but at the same time he was told by McGonagall that the classes between hobbits and theirs authors and authoresses would eventually become one as the years passed. Whether this was true remained to be seen, but Professor McGonagall certainly admitted the truth to him. Now he had…

“Mr. Baggins, pay attention in my class,” Gilderoy Lockhart said with a warm smile.

“Sorry professor. I…” Frodo looked about him, only to find the rest of the students had packed up and were ready to attend their next class. He attempted to do the same, only to stop him with a question that had been forming in his mind for a long time. “Sir, you wouldn’t know if J.R.R. Tolkien was in Middle-earth, would you? He wrote ‘The Hobbit’, but I was curious…” He hesitated. Gathering his courage, Frodo asked further, “Was J.R.R. … I mean, did he visit Middle-earth? Did he know what would happen to me, in the near future?”

“Ah,” Lockhart blurted. “Yes, my lad, I would know J.R.R. Tolkien. Was he, per chance, a wizard? Because authors and authoresses pose some sort of magical abilities in them. Now, did J.R.R. Tolkien visit Middle-earth? Yes. Eh… well that depends. Did you know if he came to the Shire?”

“I…” Frodo paused. That was a good question. He could ask Sindri, his upcoming dwarf teacher, but Lockhart, from his behavior, sounded like he knew what authors and authoresses were. He admitted, still confused, “I don’t know. Maybe he’s been in Middle-earth this whole time. How would he know about me, or my Uncle Bilbo? Why would Bilbo ask me to ask you these questions?”

“Perhaps he wanted to get a bird’s eye view of a famous wizard or two.” Lockhart said, profusely, “Now, shouldn’t you be heading off to your lessons. I suggest you get going. You don’t want to be late.”

“Yes sir.” Frodo said, heading out of the classroom. He was certain there was more that Lockhart wasn’t telling him. One thing was made clear: the authors and authoresses had some magical abilities about them. Would that mean the same for him, if he ever came around to writing a book? This was all new to him, and yet he was eager to meet up with Aria. Maybe Harry, Ron and Hermione were also around to give him some advice. He certainly hoped so.

Moving past the students and some of the staff, Frodo found the trio out in the Transfiguration Courtyard. Harry, Ron and Hermione were in the middle of studying when he approached them. They looked up at him, their expressions mixed.

“Hello Frodo,” Hermione asked, perking up.

“Why aren’t you with Aria?” Ron asked, crudely.

“Ron,” Hermione badgered the ginger-haired second year boy and friend.

“What gave you the impression that I’d be with Aria?” Frodo asked Ron, confused.

“Well, you were hanging around with Aria and your hobbit friends a lot on the first day back,” Ron admitted. “We thought you’d forgotten us.”

“I’m sure that wasn’t it, Ron,” Hermione addressed him.

“We’ve only had one adventure with him, Hermione,” Harry said. “Last year, Frodo spent more time with us than his hobbit friends.”

“Thanks,” Frodo said, sarcastic.

“You can visit whomever you’d like, Frodo. You don’t have to stick by us,” Harry told him.

“I know, but…” Frodo sat down next to the trio, “I wanted to spend time with you three. I didn’t forget. I was just waiting for the right moment to come and see you three. Is that all right?” He asked further.

“That’s fine,” Hermione said. She turned to Harry, who was distracted, “Harry, are you all right?”

“Huh?” Harry asked, looking up. “I was just… thinking…” he stood up and approached Frodo. “Can we talk?”

“Uh… okay,” Frodo said, confused. “Talk… about what?”

“I’ll see you later,” Harry said, waving to his friends before moving away from them. He asked the hobbit boy first, “Frodo, have you heard anything? Anything at all?”

“I’m not sure what you mean,” Frodo admitted, confused. “Harry, what…”

“Like a voice?” Harry told him, calmly, “I know you and Aria traveled with me to find the Sorcerer’s Stone. I wondered if you two heard any voices…”

“I’m not sure… when did you hear voices?” Frodo asked, trying to help Harry.

“Before Lockhart’s class. There was this voice, a slithering voice,” Harry lowered his voice. “Didn’t you hear it?”

“No, I…” Frodo stopped upon hearing, or thought he heard, a mysterious voice in the air. However, the voice was too low to interpret, let alone understand. The second he gave up on hearing a voice, he looked up.

Harry had mysteriously disappeared… no, Harry was back with his friends. However, he was slightly paranoid and giving Frodo a cautious gaze. Whatever the sound was, whomever the voice belonged to, Frodo couldn’t quite tell. He nearly thought he was going mad… no, he should head to his next class. He would discuss it further with Harry at some point, just to make sure neither he nor Harry were going mad.

If anything, Frodo hoped things would turn out for the better. But then, Aria was into dreams and anything spiritual or supernatural; at least, that was the impression she gave him. As for himself, Frodo didn’t know what to make of the situation. Only that it was one of the strangest moments he had yet to encounter. He hoped beyond hope that was he heard was only coming from another student’s mouth. Maybe Lotho was pranking him again. Or rather… he didn’t know what to call this situation, only that Harry might have been pulling his leg.

Or rather… no, he should just give up on the notion that there were voices in the air. It was too surreal to stop and think about anything else. Minding his own business, Frodo darted down the corridors, back to the Grand Staircase. It was time for Potions class. He was already dreading the thought of being taught by Professor Snape. Hopefully, this year he would combat this fear of the Potions’ teacher.

He hoped as much would happen. He hoped it, at least. Oh, he would just head onto class like the good student he was. That would give him some credit from the teachers, right? Oh, he would just go to class. Yes, that sounded like a good idea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I incorporated a bit of the PC game “Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets” into the end of this chapter. But it is much better than what it was the last time around, which is good and flows better. :) Thanks for reviewing. :) Now, its onto two more rewrites and we should be caught up again. :)


	11. First Date by the Lake

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you ValueMyHeart, SweetDarkSilence, DoctorWhovian18 and LOTCR, over on fanfiction.net, for your support and encouragement throughout this story. :)
> 
> Here is the rewritten version of Chapter 11. :)

Saturday came with a billowing breeze through the Ravenclaw boys’ dormitory window. Frodo felt the breeze, knowing then and there that sometime soon the Ravenclaw Quidditch captain would invite him out to the Quidditch pitch… or rather on the training grounds. He was almost ready to begin the day, changed and all, when he remembered, after breakfast and for an hour or two, he would have his class with Sindri that morning. Oh… great. Just what he needed on a day like this.

Frodo nearly made it out of the Ravenclaw common room when he brushed past Aria. Well, it was more like bumping into her without paying that much attention. He grinned sheepishly at her before proceeding to help her collect her books and school supplies, properly placed back in her satchel.

“Frodo, what’s your hurry? You know we have morning classes today. Afterwards, I don’t… know,” Aria exclaimed, assisting in collecting her books.

“I’m sorry, Aria.” Frodo’s words ran almost in sync with Aria’s: “Here. Let me help you. You know what’s funny: for a moment there, I figured you would… go right ahead,” he said, stopping himself.

“I said we have morning classes today. And then we get the day off to do whatever, as long as its school stuff. Of course,” she said, apologetic. She paused. “What were you about to say?”

“Oh. Ehhh… hm.” Frodo smirked at her. He wanted to admit something, something very dear to him. But was he ready for the next step? He’d only known Aria since December. Maybe he was moving too fast. Or maybe he should slow down. Did it matter which way he went? Of course it mattered. It always did. Why was he thinking of the word ‘it’? He knew what words to use. Snapping out of his thoughts, Frodo addressed her, “Come on. We should head down to the Great Hall.”

“Okay,” Aria said, nodding. Taking the last book from him, she went on to say, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Frodo replied, smiling back at her. Snapping out of his daydream a second time, he said, “Come on. Let’s head to the Great Hall.”

“Okay,” she answered, standing up after him. Only when they were truly ready to start the day did Frodo lead Aria out of the Ravenclaw common room, straight for the door leading to the tower’s stairwell. They wouldn’t be late for breakfast. They wouldn’t…

Breakfast followed accordingly. When Frodo and Aria were finished, the two followed their hobbit friends and authoresses past one of the portraits, down the corridor and into the Authors and Authoresses’ Chamber. Frodo recalled wandering in this chamber last year. It was good that this time, Frodo had friends to count on: Samwise Gamgee, Merry Brandybuck, Pippin Took, Aria, Anne, Amy and Abigail. There were sure a lot of As in the authoresses’ names.

Eventually, they came towards a classroom door, which was left ajar. Inside, there was a class in session with Sindri. And so they spent their time waiting, but also doing their homework as they went. Fatty and Folco arrived two minutes before class. They looked like they had a little venture of their own. Frodo chuckled at the thought. Folco and Fatty on adventures… well, it wasn’t too bad of an idea.

Frodo stopped working for a moment to speak to Aria. “Aria, if I ask you a favor, would you do it?”

“That depends on the favor,” she said, looking up at him. She asked, “What is it? What’s this favor?”

“Only if you’re ready for what I’m about to ask you.” He gazed back into her eyes. Could he dare ask her now? Oh, he was having weird thoughts again. He wanted to admit what was on his mind, but this – these feelings he had for Aria. What were they about?

He stopped when she spoke up again. “Frodo, I mean… I like us as friends and all. I want to be friends, but… whatever you’ve got to say, you can say it.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Frodo sighed behind his teeth. Could he try again? Aria wanted them to be friends. Eh… maybe he could try again next time. Why then did it hurt?

“I’m sorry.” Aria was distressed. “Did I say the wrong thing? I don’t… I’m not sure… eh…” she grunted. “I didn’t know…”

“Don’t worry about it,” Frodo repeated. “It’s fine.” He sighed a second time, murmuring to himself, “Maybe next time.” He and Aria were friends. Well, he would wait and see what would happen next… oh, now he was sounding strange.

The classroom door opened, allowing the students in Sindri’s first class to leave. They were first year hobbits, authors and authoresses. Frodo’s insides hurt a little. He couldn’t believe Aria only wanted to stay friends with him. Wasn’t she ready for… no. He wouldn’t let this get to him. There had to be a way to… no. It was better to leave Aria alone. They had one adventure together… then why was it, when he looked at her, she was also in pain? Maybe there was hope for them yet. But she didn’t say anything… yet.

“Frodo, I know you were going to ask me a question. What was it?” she asked, curious.

Oh. There was still hope for them. “I was about to ask you if you wanted to… go on a date with me?” Frodo smiled at her. Well, it was a start and hobbits were mature.

“Sure. When?” Aria asked, curious. “Oh. And you don’t mind me being studious. Do you?”

“Did something happen that I should know about?” Frodo asked, confused.

“Just something from my past,” she said, a little doubtful.

“Calm down. You can be studious around me.” He smiled at her, in an effort to show his appreciation.

Just before he took a seat next to Aria, it was Rosie who thought fast. Many of the hobbits were staying with their friends, boys with boys and girls with girls. Although he was glad Rosie came around in time to sit by Aria, Frodo sat in the second row, next to Sam Gamgee. Frodo looked to his left and to his right, where he saw Merry and Pippin, as well as Folco and Fatty, sitting on either side. Frodo sighed in relief. At least they wouldn’t be alone. He felt better to see Anne, Amy, Abigail and SweetDarkSilence also situated on either side of Aria and Rosie. Behind Frodo and Sam, other authors, authoresses and hobbits also accompanied them, but like last year, Lotho sat in the back row.

Sindri began the class immediately. “Welcome fellow authors, authoresses and hobbits! I am Sindri and welcome to the Introduction class: Part II.” He chuckled in delight. “As many of you will learn, I am a dwarf from Avalon, and it is a wondrous island to behold. As you can see, you will find all my artifacts from the Númenorean era, and many more from across the globe. Yes, they are exquisite.” Frodo looked about the stone-walled classroom with the arched windows. The rays of the sun brought in a gold-hued light about the room, revealing many stone figurines from a sea-faring era, as well as blue-gold artifacts, swords and shields along the walls. Well, he noticed this now anyway… his thoughts returned to hear more of Sindri’s introductory speech:

“…And I must inform you that while these artifacts are priceless, they are valuable. It’s taken me a long time to find these pieces from Númenor, these wondrous gifts that many would find a plethora of wealth and riches.” Sindri laughed. He continued, heading into the lesson, “Now, I want each of you to write a paper, in this class, on what your favorite moment was, in any part of Middle-earth.” There was no response. “Come on, class. Step lively. We haven’t got all day.”

Immediately, the students pulled out their composition books and began jotting down, on one sheet of paper, what they appreciated about Middle-earth. Frodo sat there, wondering what to write. He knew the Shire, but… were there buildings during the time of the Kingdom of Arnor. He remembered seeing ruins in one part of the Shire… or was it all over Eriador? He… yes. He knew what to write. Readying his quill, he jotted down his thoughts…

There. He completed the classwork, and in record time as well. But was he supposed to turn it in? There were a few students who did. Maybe he should do the same. Tearing out the page from his composition book, and making sure his name was on the paper, Frodo walked up to Sindri’s dark oak desk. The moment he set the paper down, he whispered, loud enough so Sindri heard him:

“Do you know about J.R.R. Tolkien?” He whispered further, “I was just wondering if you…”

“Come here,” Sindri whispered back. The moment he stood next to the dwarf, Frodo waited for the auburn-haired dwarf to whisper further, “You’ll have to speak to Professor Dumbledore. The Headmaster knows more about the subject than I. I’m just a dwarf whose explored other worlds and adventures.” He asked in a whisper, “I’ll take that paper and you can go back to your seat now, Mr. Baggins.”

“Thank you,” the hobbit boy whispered his reply. Not bothering with Sindri further, and hoping he was a good dwarf, and not like what happened the previous year with Professor Cherryhill, Frodo returned to his seat. He briefly looked at Sam, who now whispered to him:

“What was that about?”

“I was just asking about our author, J.R.R. Tolkien.” Frodo recovered with, “It’s a long story.” But not before he added, whispering in his ear, “I’ll tell you later, Sam.”

“But Mr. Frodo…”

“Sam, trust me,” he said in answer.

“I do trust you, but shouldn’t we…” Sam was cut off by Sindri, who told them:

“Shush! No talking in my classroom, unless spoken to.” Sindri asked them, “Understand?”

“Yes Professor Sindri,” Frodo and Sam blurted, softly, in unison.

Frodo smirked in Sam’s direction. He did feel a little more like himself. It was good he found friends, even when his past… no. He wouldn’t let his past get to him. Maybe he should focus on getting his hand magic right. He needed to practice…

The bell rang, signaling the end of their lesson. At least, there was a bell located somewhere in the Authors and Authoresses’ Chamber. Even though Frodo hoped there was more he wanted to say… no, he got the message from Sindri about Professor Dumbledore knowing something. Maybe he knew if the authors, authoresses were connected to J.R.R. Tolkien, along with other authors and authoresses, spanning all the worlds, realms and universes. Figuring he said enough, Frodo waited for his friends to finish packing up.

However, it was Aria he wanted to address the most, given she agreed to go out on a date with him. As his friends headed for the door out of the classroom, waiting for him and Aria, Frodo slung his satchel over his shoulder, before helping Aria with her satchel. When this task was done, he followed her outside the classroom.

“We’ll see you later, Frodo,” Abigail said, waving to him.

Frodo waved back, watching his authoress friends part ways with their hobbit friends. Then again, it seemed as if everyone else knew what was going on except for him and Aria, for she looked just as confused as he was…

“Bye,” Anne replied, also waving to them.

“See you later, Anne, Amy, Abigail.” Aria grinned right back at them. Frodo returned his gaze to her, only she was blushing out of embarrassment. He met her gaze when she asked, outside the classroom, “What’s going on?”

Frodo chuckled. “Come on.” He slung an arm around her shoulders, leading her back to the same portrait they came in. On the way out of the Authors and Authoresses’ Chamber, he asked her, “Aria, I was given a notice to head to the training grounds after class. This class. Would you like to come with me? We can make it a part of our date.” He grinned. Was he really asking such a question? What was wrong with him? Or wasn’t there anything wrong to begin with?

“I do like Quidditch,” Aria admitted, before saying, “Sure. I’d like that.”

“Then let’s go,” he said, leaving the portrait hole. Managing to get down from the portrait hole, Frodo helped Aria climb down. Once they were safe on the floor, with the portrait closing behind them, he led her across the corridors and stairways until they reached the grounds. Upon reaching the training grounds, Frodo saw the Quidditch trials had already begun for Ravenclaw.

He hoped he wasn’t late. Turning to Aria, he told her, doing his best to keep calm, “Come on.”

“Wait, Frodo. What’s a date?” she asked, curious and confused.

“Just come on,” he replied, calmly. Taking her hand, Frodo led her across the training grounds, right to the mock Quidditch trial that Ravenclaw Quidditch players were playing, to see who would get picked to play in an actual Quidditch match. By the time he reached the outside of the smaller Quidditch stadium, he was forced to stop by the Ravenclaw Quidditch captain. He leaned forward upon Aria bumping into him. Aloud, he asked the Ravenclaw Quidditch captain, “I’m sorry I’m late. Aria was hoping to watch the game. I’m going to try out…”

“No Quidditch match this year for you, Frodo. Professor Dumbledore requested it, for this year alone. I’m not sure if you’ll be allowed to play next year,” the Quidditch captain said, politely.

“Dumbledore?” Frodo asked, curious and concerned. “Why would Dumbledore request…”

“You can watch the trial if you want to.” The Ravenclaw Quidditch captain added, “You just won’t be allowed to play this year. You understand?”

“Yes,” he answered, nodding. Turning to Aria, he asked her, “Do you want to watch the mock game? We can go somewhere else, if you like.” He received no response from Aria for a moment or two. It was as if she was frozen on the idea of having to choose which path to take. She eventually did speak up, telling him promptly:

“Can we… I mean…” she lowered her head in shame. Frodo understood, admitting to her:

“We don’t have to stay here.”

“I thought you wanted to watch the mock Quidditch game,” she admitted in turn.

“Well, we don’t have to.” Frodo encouraged, placing an arm around her shoulders, “Come on. Let’s go somewhere else.”

x-x-x

It turned out that Frodo wanted to stay on the grounds, but decided to head to the Black Lake’s shoreline. From there, he and Aria worked on their studies. Frodo was glad that Aria helped with deciding where they should study. Being along the shoreline gave them encouragement. For reasons they did not know yet, Frodo felt happy feeling the cool breeze across the lake.

Aria was glad of this as well. It kept her more focused on her work. But even that deserved a chuckle from Frodo. She was very studious, and yet it was okay. Even he was studious. So, it all worked out in the end, at least for that Saturday… with the exception of not being allowed to play Quidditch that year. He, Frodo, would have to ask about that and other matters with the Headmaster.

“Aria,” Frodo asked this time around, “about that date: do you mind we have it now?”

Aria looked up at him. “Sure. We can have it now, our date. But we’re also studying and I’m almost done with…” Frodo cut her off, the second he placed a hand over her hand. Well, this was getting awkward. Frodo could agree more with this statement. Releasing his hand, Frodo hesitated a bit, until he said:

“Aria, it’s okay,” he answered. He turned his gaze to the lake, his expression serious. “With my parents gone, I wonder if I’ll be able to learn to swim.”

“What do you mean?” she asked, concerned.

“I shouldn’t press you.” He looked at her, asking, “We can do it. Learn to swim.”

“Now?” She asked further, worried.

Frodo thought it over. “Maybe in the summer, if the Head of the Author’s House will let you…”

“Let me?” Aria asked, more confused and bewildered.

“Learn how to swim,” Frodo finished, standing up.

“Frodo, I don’t know. I mean…”

“It’ll be like learning something new.” Frodo had to ask himself if he was ready to take on something important. Swimming would be a new skill to learn. Why shouldn’t he do such a task? But then… hmm. Turning to Aria, he gestured forward. “Come on.”

“What are you doing?” She asked, alarmed.

“Hmm… it might be too cold to watch the waves,” he admitted, thinking it over a third time.

“Oh.” She shivered. “Maybe you’re right.”

“Do you want to go back inside?” Frodo asked, facing Aria once again.

“Yes, please?” She asked, politely.

“Come on. Let’s go,” he said, putting away his books and supplies. Once he was ready, and waiting patiently until Aria had her books and supplies back inside her satchel, Frodo brought Aria back inside the castle.

So far, Frodo could admit he had a good day with Aria. Since neither seemed to know how a date was supposed to work, Frodo nonetheless enjoyed spending time with her. Wait… just what was he doing? What had he been doing? For all he knew, he was turning thirteen years old in a few weeks. Surely his becoming a teenager meant something, but… no. He was overthinking, overstepping his boundaries.

Yes, take it slow with Aria, he told himself. There was… no, that wouldn’t work. No… what was going on inside his head anyway? Frodo gave her a quick smile, but it was very awkward. Did either he or Aria know what they were doing? Given Aria’s awkward stare turned into an embarrassed stare, she was just as confused as he was. There had to be a reason for… no. He wouldn’t let it bug him.

However, upon re-entering the Ravenclaw Common Room, Frodo and Aria were received with mixed stares. Some of their classmates were curious over what was going on between them. Frodo said nothing, leading Aria over to one of the empty couches, where they could continue their studies. It was the least they could do to stave the silence. But it didn’t settle Frodo’s nerves. Butterflies flew from his heart and stomach. He wasn’t alone, for Aria was experiencing the same feelings. If only they knew what was going on inside themselves. For all he knew… oh he, Frodo, would wait until… no. How was he to figure out what was going on inside himself? He wondered if he would know what this feeling meant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, we’ll see if and when Frodo figures out what’s going on with himself. Until then, thanks for reading. :) As usual, more is to come… and so the rewrites continue, but I say this is much better and not as spaced out as it was the first or second time. Anyway, I’ll see everyone in the next chapter. :)


	12. A Voice in the Air

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimers:** All material from The Lord of the Rings trilogy belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien and New Line Cinema. All material from the Harry Potter series belongs to J.K. Rowling and Warner Brothers. All original material belongs to the author of this fanfiction story.
> 
>  **Acknowledgements:** Thanks to TooLazyToLogIn for sparking the idea that led into this series. Thanks goes to ValueMyHeart, SweetDarkSilence, DoctorWhovian18 and LOTCR for your support and encouragement throughout this story. And thanks as well to everyone reading this story. It’s much appreciated. :)
> 
> This has to be the chapter where I really jumped ahead so many times. This chapter and the next chapter coming up. Hopefully, it’s better this time and slowed down as well. We’ll see how it goes. :)

Hours flew by in rapid procession. Returning to the Ravenclaw Common Room was one perk of the evening. As far as Frodo knew, he had spent nearly the entire day and evening with Aria. What sort of date was this if they were spending time together? Maybe it was the fact that they were friends and had proven their worth in the Chamber to the Sorcerer’s Stone. Either way…

“ _Come… come to me…_ ”

“What was that?” Frodo turned to Aria, wary.

“What was what?” Aria asked, confused.

“A voice. Didn’t you hear it?” he asked her, curious. “There was this voice in the air.”

“Well…” she snapped her head up and around. Frodo knew then something was up, especially with the way Aria was behaving.

“ _Come… come to me… come… to me…_ ”

“What do you think that was?” Aria asked, facing Frodo. Frodo couldn’t… she heard it too.

“I don’t know.” He stood up and extended his hand to her. “Come on. Let’s find out.”

“How? Harry could have heard it, too,” she admitted.

“Then let’s find him,” he said, his hand still extended to her.

Already taking precautions of any of their classmates hearing their conversation – all thanks to Frodo’s ever growing skill of hand magic – Frodo waited until Aria took his hand before turning them invisible. The whole spell took a few minutes to perform, which meant that Frodo had to be cautious over who saw them turn invisible or not.

The second they were invisible, Frodo dragged his authoress friend out of the Ravenclaw Common Room. It was good that he muffled their feet as well. His hand magic was indeed getting stronger, as opposed to the previous year which was a greater challenge. At least now his hand magic was improving…

Leaving the Ravenclaw Tower, Frodo held onto Aria as best he could. However, Aria’s clumsiness nearly caused them to be separate. To the hobbit boy’s surprise, the hand magic stretched on. Aria and he were still invisible. Frodo looked at his hands in surprise, before moving his friend down the Sixth Floor Corridor.

They had just reached the Grand Staircase when they bumped into Harry. Frodo did not expect Harry to become invisible, but he did. From the looks of things, Frodo was having trouble with controlling his hand magic. Even he was terrified by what was happening.

“Harry. Eh…” Frodo checked his hands again.

“Can’t you turn it off?” Harry asked him, bewildered.

“Frodo, what is it?” Aria asked. Frodo felt her gaze and Harry’s boring into him. What could he do? What…

“Where is Baggy Waggy gone?” Peeves taunted, screeching in the air.

“I’ll get you, Peeves,” Filch called out in anger.

“Let’s go, before Filch catches us,” Harry said, darting up the stairs to the Seventh Floor. Frodo watched him leave, feeling a tug in the invisible barrier until… the barrier snapped, forcing Frodo to back up, right into Aria. Harry fell forwards at the top step, becoming visible again. Not taking chances, Harry walked slowly past the door to the Seventh Floor. Frodo was alone again with Aria.

“Come on. Let’s get back to the Ravenclaw Tower,” Frodo said, leading his authoress friend back to the Sixth Floor Corridor.

“What was that about?” Aria asked, moving close to the hobbit boy.

“I was losing control of my hand magic.” Frodo apologized to her, “I’m sorry. I guess we didn’t find out what Harry had to say.”

“We can try again tomorrow,” she suggested.

Frodo laughed, soft and merry, “Yes. I’ll take your word for it.”

Solving the bronze eagle knocker’s riddle, Frodo allowed Aria to enter the Ravenclaw Common Room first before himself. Shortly after saying goodnight to one another, the two friends parted for their dormitories. Exhausted, Frodo changed into his night clothes. He collapsed on the bed, his head hitting the pillow in the right spot.

He fell asleep, dreaming about a tall elvish woman with blonde hair. In the dream, he was wandering closer to a basin, where the mirror was clear as glass. He saw a reflection of older self, worn down and nearly spent. What did this dream mean? Would he find the answers he sought? He remembered the dream was in various shades of grayish blue.

Whatever the dream meant, he would find out sooner or later. He did not know which way it would be, but he knew it would come, when he sought for the correct answer. With time, he would find out when that moment would occur. For now, he was at Hogwarts and his friends were here, including Aria. She meant so much to him, and yet he knew her for a short time. Would she have an influence for him in his life?

He would wait and see. For only time would tell what came next for him in this life.

*.*.*

The first week of term was now over, but that didn’t stop Frodo and his classmates from receiving homework from their teachers. The challenges were that much greater, and so was Frodo’s hand magic skill. Perhaps it meant he was soon to be thirteen, but since when did his coming into his teen years involve his hand magic becoming a little more out of control. He would need to speak to Professor Flitwick about this matter, since it was Flitwick who helped him know he had first learned how to control his hand magic.

That’s what he did on Tuesday. Finding his way to the Professor Flitwick’s office, Frodo knocked on the door. He barely heard Flitwick’s voice, which answered, muffled, “Come in!” The moment Frodo had entered the room, Professor Flitwick said, in delight, “Mr. Baggins, what can I do for you?”

“Well…” Frodo was cut off, thanks to his free hand gesturing fast towards the papers on Flitwick’s desk. By the time he closed the door, the candles flickered off and on, same with the fireplace. He said, nervously, “I can’t control it. My hand magic… it’s out of control.”

“Frodo.” Flitwick grabbed his arm. Just as he did, Frodo looked about the room. Everything that the hobbit boy threw out of whack in the office returned to their proper places. Frodo sighed, but not without asking:

“How did you do that?”

“Sit down,” Flitwick replied, showing the hobbit boy to an empty cushioned chair. He said next, “There’s something on your mind, isn’t there? The reason behind why you can’t control your hand magic.”

“I did so well last year.” He furrowed his brow. “Why can’t I…” Frodo understood. “Is it because I’m turning thirteen?” He recovered. “No, there must be a reason why I can’t focus…” Was he focusing on girls? He felt different around them. Then there was Aria… why couldn’t he figure this out?

“Well, whatever the reason, I’m sure you’ll figure it out,” Flitwick replied. Frodo hardly knew how to explain why he was losing focus. And then that date… no. He wasn’t ready to date. If only his parents were alive… Flitwick brought him back to reality, back to the present, by saying, “Maybe you’ll have better luck tonight. Distractions only work for so long, Frodo. I would suggest figuring out why you’re losing control, but I think we need to begin lessons again on hand magic. It’s a new year and it will be more challenging.”

“Yes professor.” Frodo nodded. “How many weeks?”

“Twelve weeks,” he said, calmly. “We’ll get this hand magic under control.”

“Yes professor. I’ll see you later,” he answered, softly. Get the hand magic under control? How was he supposed to do that? For all Frodo knew, what he was feeling and experiencing… well, he might figure it out when he was thirteen, but then… what was going on with himself? Did it have something to do with the way he was behaving in front of Aria? Well…

“Frodo!” It was Pearl Took. Great. Frodo was now cornered, just after leaving Flitwick’s office, by Pippin’s sister. “Pippin told me about your hand magic.”

“What did he say?” Frodo asked, earnest.

“Just that you’re losing control. Do you mind if I join you?” she asked, perkily.

“I was supposed to meet Aria and my friends…”

“Oh, come on,” Pearl said, grabbing his hand. Unable to loosen her grip from his hand, Frodo had no choice except to follow Pearl over to the nearest bench. Before he had the chance to say anything, Frodo was pulled into a full on kiss on the lips by Pearl Took. He hadn’t expected this from her, nor did he, Frodo Baggins, expect Aria to be watching them for a few moments. The second Pearl released him, Frodo darted after Aria.

Surely he could come up with a reason for what happened. There was only one solution he could come up with: he needed to tell the truth. That was the only way he could convince her… but then there was the kiss Pearl gave to him. Now what was he to do? He was Frodo Baggins, and he knew such a thing about honesty…

“Aria, wait! STOP!” Frodo caught up to Aria, but he was panting. However, Aria had the look of disdain on her face, and yet she was quiet. Frodo apologized, “Aria, I can explain.” There was no response from Aria. Frodo pressed on, “Pearl lunged at me. I was caught in the middle.” There was still no response. He tried again, hoping she would respond, “Aria, I didn’t… I mean… don’t you have anything to tell me? I can’t read your thoughts.”

Aria turned to him and said, calming down somewhat, “Do you have feelings for Pearl?”

“Feelings?” Frodo gave it some thought, “No, I don’t… um… well, eh…” He recovered, slightly, “How much did you see?”

“Pearl lunged at you.” Aria said, a little chipper, “You didn’t do anything. But Frodo, it’s not your fault.” She admitted, fast, “It was just shocking to see Pearl do such a thing. I was just wondering if you felt what she was feeling. Or rather…”

“So you know it wasn’t my fault,” he admitted, sighing in relief.

“No. I just happened to be present for what happened. You looked shocked, Frodo,” she said, nearly giggling.

“I _was_ shocked,” Frodo countered. “I still am.”

“Frodo, I think you have an admirer,” she teased.

He leaned up against the cold stone wall. “Do I?” In some way, he was beginning to realize what the feelings he had been experiencing were about. Just by looking at Aria, Frodo felt more confident around her, like he could trust her. But how far would that trust take him? He hoped she wouldn’t ignore him, like she did in a few minutes ago. Taking another glimpse at her, Frodo dared to ask, “Who is this admirer you speak of?”

“Well, I meant Pearl, but…” She stopped herself, to Frodo’s surprise. In haste, Aria recovered, “But then… am I your admirer, or is it you? No. Eh… we had our first date. Eh…” her voice faded. Frodo understood her hesitation. Clasping a hand on her shoulder, Frodo told her, calmly:

“It’s all right.” Getting her attention, after glancing about the corridor, Frodo spoke to Aria again, politely, “We can go on another date, if you want.”

“Frodo, do I worry too much?” Aria asked. Frodo was stunned.

“What?” He asked her in return.

“Do I worry too much?” she repeated, looking up at him.

“Yes, you do.” He confirmed. He spoke in turn, calmly, “Come on. Let’s head to the grounds.” Wrapping an arm around her, Frodo led Aria down the corridors and out to the grounds. The air felt cooler outside. Once they found a bench to sit down at, Frodo looked at Aria and said, almost at random, “I picked up on the word ‘dating’ from our classmates. You know how Percy’s dating Penelope Clearwater.”

“I’m still confused on the word ‘dating’,” Aria said, still confused. She recovered, but this time a little calmer, “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to… I mean, sure we were dating and all. But I just can’t…” Frodo cut her off, throwing himself into an embrace with her. It felt right, but awkward. Didn’t she need the support? He released her a moment later, only to end up gazing into each other’s eyes. Frodo moved away, sheepish and unsure what had happened. Luckily for him, Aria asked, “Do you want to head back?”

“Yes,” Frodo answered, feeling too embarrassed to do anything else. “Let’s head back.” Once he had his satchel’s strap over his head, he helped Aria to her feet, before resuming their hike back to Hogwarts castle.

*.*.*

After the awkward moment he shared with Aria, Frodo spent his time resuming his studies. He wondered why he wasn’t so awkward during his first date with Aria – wow, that sounded strange. Maybe he should just resume his studies altogether. First Aria, then Pearl, and then Aria again. What was going on inside his head? He felt weird around girls. Sure, he was getting used to being around girls, thanks to Hermione, Anne, Aria, Amy and Abigail, but… oh, this was too much for him.

And yet, the prank wars continued between the fellow pranksters, which included nearly all of Frodo and Aria’s friends. Filch was going mad from all the pranking. He nearly called Peeves to chase after the pranksters – Amy, Abigail, even Anne joined in the fun for the authors and authoresses; Merry and Pippin for the hobbits, with Folco including himself on impaling water balloons in the corridors; and of course Fred and George Weasley for the wizards.

And on an unusual occasion, Aria began to wonder what was wrong with Frodo. She approached Sam, which was unusual for her because she wasn’t used to speaking to Sam. She cornered him in the Transfiguration courtyard, as the sandy-haired hobbit boy was busy with his homework.

“Sam, I came to ask about Frodo. Do you know what’s wrong with him? Isn’t there anything I can do to help him out?” she asked, curious. “He just acts weird around me.”

“What has Mr. Frodo done? I haven’t seen him pranking like he used to,” Sam admitted.

“That’s what I’m wondering about. You don’t think… well, I mean…”

Sam laughed out loud. “Miss Aria, you don’t have a crush on Mr. Frodo, do you?”

“Well…” she was nervous. This wasn’t something she was used to asking. “I mean, I had a first date with Frodo, and I still don’t know what dating implies. Nothing happened. We just talked. And then he hugged me today, and now I feel weird. It was awkward.”

“Maybe you should speak to Frodo. I’m sure Mr. Frodo will understand,” Sam said, a little brave.

“Will he? I don’t know.” Aria admitted further, “I’m not used to this. I know what a crush is and I…”

“Miss Aria, calm down,” he said with a clear head. “Mr. Frodo will understand. Why don’t you tell him what you told me?”

“But Pearl kissed him, and then I got upset, and it’s just…”

“Aria, calm down,” Frodo said, announcing himself. Trembling, Aria turned around, only to come face to face with him. Frodo smiled, telling her gently, “Come on. Let’s have a word.” He turned to Sam, saying, “Thank you, Sam, but I’ll take it from here.”

“Are you sure you’re alrigh’, Miss Aria, Mr. Frodo?” Sam asked, concerned.

“I’ve got this, Sam. Thank you,” Frodo said, gaining the final say in the matter. “I’ll see you later.”

“Goodbye,” Sam said, waving.

Returning his gaze to Aria, as they walked across the courtyard, Frodo asked her, “Tell me what’s wrong.”

“Well, you see…” Aria retold as much as she could, about her worries towards recent events. Frodo listened intently, catching everything she said. By the end of the story, Frodo understood what was wrong with her:

“Aria, we don’t have to start dating. We can wait until you’re ready.” Why was he telling her these things? _Well, it was starting to make sense_ , Frodo thought. He was about to turn thirteen. What could happen from then on out?

“Oh, thank you.” She recovered. “Well, I mean, you’re not ready to date. Are you? Or do you court?

“I just learned the term while I’ve been here. Fred and George told me last year.” Frodo admitted, “I’m beginning to understand, but I can’t…” He hardly understood the word ‘dating’, let alone knew what courting girls was like. No, he wasn’t ready. He suggested, “Maybe we could start as friends first. See how that turns out. Sound good?”

“Yeah.” Aria grinned back at him, in a friendly manner. “I’d like that. That way, we’re not…”

“That way, we’re not pressured into…” Frodo stopped himself, realizing he and Aria were saying the exact same thing. He grinned right back at her, glad they came to an understanding. He extended his hand to her. “Friends?”

“Friends,” Aria said, shaking his hand. But even with shaking hands, Frodo felt just as sheepish as he was when he hugged her. Frodo released his hand fast from her grasp, but that didn’t stop himself from grinning at Aria, who grinned right back in a sheepish manner.

It was clear: Frodo and Aria would be friends. Wherever the road took them… well, they needed to first pass their second year at Hogwarts. One thing at a time then, Frodo told himself. He hardly expected Aria to think the same thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I figured, given the last chapter, that I needed to slow things down a bit, as far as relationships go. I’m still working on remembering what it’s like to be twelve to thirteen years of age, especially myself and remembering what I was like back then as well. So, it’s quite in character for me to say and do certain things because that was who I was during my childhood. As for Frodo, well hobbits are mature for their age.
> 
> Anyway, I hope everyone enjoyed this chapter and are looking forward to the next chapter. :) I’ll get through these rewrites yet. :)


	13. Frodo's Birthday Party

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimers:** All material from The Lord of the Rings trilogy belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien and New Line Cinema. All material from the Harry Potter series belongs to J.K. Rowling and Warner Brothers. All original material belongs to the author of this fanfiction story.
> 
>  **Acknowledgements:** Thanks to TooLazyToLogIn for sparking the idea for this series. And thank you ValueMyHeart, SweetDarkSilence, DoctorWhovian18 and LOTCR for your support and encouragement through this story and series, and for being a part of this series, too. And thanks everyone for taking the time out of your busy day to read, review, favorite and follow this story and its series. It’s much appreciated. :)
> 
> Here's the rewrite for Chapter 13.

“What’s going on here?” Filch asked, approaching Fred, George, Merry, Pippin and Folco. He was not in the mood for another prank.

“Why Mr. Filch,” Pippin said, perking up.

“It’s good to see you, Mr. Filch,” Fred said, also delighted.

“Wipe that smirk off your faces. I know you’re up to something, _students_ ,” Filch spat at the word ‘student’.

“Well, in that case, we have a present for you,” Fred replied, turning to his ginger-haired twin brother. “George, if you will…”

“I’ll hand it to him,” Folco declared, excited.

“No. I think it would be better if Merry hands Mr. Filch his gift,” George said, handing the wrapped parcel to the twelve-year-old hobbit boy.

“Gladly.” Merry passed the parcel to Mr. Filch. “For you, Mr. Filch.”

“I…” Filch looked up, right as the students bolted off down the hallway. Why did this remind him of something… the parcel exploded. He jumped back just in time to see orange goo splattered on his trousers, trench coat, shirt and on a knight standing on a pedestal block. He would get those hobbits… and students back. Fred and George Weasley, with their band of pranksters wouldn’t get him the next time. For now, he needed to clean up this mess. Perfect.

-.-.-

Fred, George, Merry, Pippin and Folco had just reached the other side of the portrait hole. They were back in the Authors and Authoresses’ Chamber, and right on time, too. Stopping over by an empty bench, the hobbits and twin wizards laughed their full heads off. It was too good pranking Mr. Filch, and yet pranking the caretaker and Slytherins seemed a right nice idea. They would get another chance sometime in the near future. They just knew it…

“There you are. All of you, finally.” It was Frodo, coming towards them. “You’re missing the party.”

“Your birthday party,” Pippin corrected him.

“We wouldn’t miss it, cousin,” Merry said.

“That reminds me: I need to find Fatty Bolger.” Folco asked Frodo, curious, “Just where did Fatty go?”

“He’s hunting for his beetle,” Frodo answered.

“I’ll go and find him then!” Folco spoke, loudly. “Be right back!” He sped down the corridor before Frodo and the others caught him.

“He’ll be back, won’t he?” Frodo asked, curious.

“Of course he’ll be back, cousin,” Pippin said, standing up.

“I just think that maybe I need to…”

“Frodo, it’s your birthday and we’re your guests,” George responded, calmly.

“Just relax. We’ll keep an eye out, in case Folco does return,” Fred said. He added a second later, “We’ll keep an eye out for any passing Slytherins.” He followed George down the corridor, in search of Folco, Fatty and hoping to find any excuse to pull off a few more pranks.

“Come on, cousin. Let’s go in,” Merry said, taking the lead.

Inside the room, the first thing Frodo, Merry and Pippin did was search for Sam Gamgee. The sandy-haired hobbit boy had to be somewhere in the crowded room… okay, there were at least a dozen or so people in the large classroom. Of the guests invited to Frodo’s party included Harry, Ron, Hermione, Neville Longbottom for the witches and wizards; for the hobbits, it was nearly half of Frodo’s classmates, including first years; and for authors and authoresses, Frodo didn’t just invite Anne, Amy, Abigail and Aria for authoresses, for other authors and authoresses – both first and second years – had also been invited. To add, Frodo also invited Luna Lovegood, out of common courtesy. Whether his classmates understood this or not remained to be seen.

As for the room itself, it was decorated with blue silks, with the Ravenclaw emblem magically built on the top of the large stone fireplace. Frodo was glad the room was filled in shades of blue, including the food and drinks, which had come from the kitchen. It was just right for him. Everything seemed to be going by smoothly, but it was a great effort keeping Pippin and Aria from staring at the cake. As Merry rushed off with Pippin to get a glimpse of the blue frosted cake, with its wavy blue edges for edible decoration and letters in yellow frosting that said ‘Happy Birthday Frodo’, Frodo found Sam at long last. To Frodo’s surprise, Sam was talking to Rosie Cotton.

“Well, that’s interesting,” Frodo said, walking right up to Sam and Rosie.

“Hullo Frodo,” Rosie said, delighted. She added, pointing to food table, “Pippin and Aria are sure fascinated by your cake.”

“’I’ll get Mr. Pippin,” Sam said, charging towards the food table where Aria, Merry and Pippin stood. “What’re you three up to?”

“Sam!” Merry shouted, quite confused.

“We didn’t touch the cake, Sam,” Pippin admitted, surprised.

“I think we should wait for the teachers to cut the cake,” Aria suggested.

“An excellent idea, Miss Aria.” It was Professor Templeton. He had burly dark hair and a face that was rough from experience in the field of writing. Turning to Frodo, Templeton instructed, “Frodo, why don’t you come over here and make your wish. Then we’ll cut the cake.”

Doing as he was told, Frodo approached the blue frosted round cake. Candles were set on the cake by Templeton, who also lit the candles through use of hand magic. Frodo stared at the cake, thinking of what wish to make. In a manner of seconds, the hobbit boy blew out the candles. His guests cheered and clapped, moments into Templeton taking off the candles and setting them on a plate.

The cake was well-deserved by all, as were the desserts, which included cream puffs and other treats Frodo liked. The party commenced with a final speech from Frodo himself: “Thank you for attending this party. I’m glad you came today. And please be careful as you return to your dorms this evening. We wouldn’t want to be caught by Mr. Filch.” Laughter and more cheers were had. As the guests filed out of the room, Frodo approached Aria, asking her, “What did you think of my speech?”

“It was good.” Aria was happy. That was a good sign, Frodo thought. Aria continued in delight, as she ate another slice of cake, “This is really good.”

“Hobbit food usually is.” Frodo smirked, “But no. This food came from the kitchens of this castle, including the cake.”

“You’ve seen the kitchen?” She asked, curious.

“The Hufflepuff common room is close by the kitchen.” He added, “Sam told me, and the house-elf Kanker showed me in recently.”

“Can I come?” Aria pleaded further, “Oh come on, Frodo. We’ve been on one adventure. Can’t we have another one?”

“Do you want to go on an adventure?” he asked her.

“Can we do that?” she asked, eagerly.

“Well…” he was interrupted upon hearing a slithering voice:

“ _Come… come to me…_ ”

Frodo turned to Aria, who was already suspicious. Aria asked him, “What was that?”

“So you do hear it?” Frodo asked in return.

“Of course, but where’s it coming from?” she asked further. Frodo clasped a hand on her shoulder, stopping her from moving forward.

“Wait,” he suggested, “The last time we tried searching for the voice, I nearly lost control of my hand magic. We can’t make the same mistake twice, not until we find proof first.” He asked her further, “Okay?”

“Okay,” she said a moment later.

“Look, we’ll figure this out.” He said last, “I know it.”

“Thank you for the party.” She said, calming down. “It was fun.”

Frodo smiled. “I’m glad you enjoyed yourself.” He remembered, pulling out a beaded bag, passing it to her, “Here. It’s my birthday gift to you. Hobbits usually give gifts on their birthdays.”

“Thank you,” Aria said, looking up at him.

“You’re welcome.” He whispered in her ear, “It has an extension charm. So, you can put whatever you want in this bag.”

“I’ll use it wisely,” she said last.

Indeed, Frodo hoped she would put the bag to good use. Either way, it was a good party. What made it more special for the hobbit boy was that everyone enjoyed themselves. If only Bilbo had been there to see his nephew’s party. That would have made things extra special, Frodo thought. Either way, Frodo couldn’t have asked for a better party.

*.*.*

The days flew by, with the air growing colder. September was nearing its end. Taking advantage of his broomstick, since he wasn’t allowed to play Quidditch in his second year, Frodo took Aria across the landscape near around Hogwarts. Finding a suitable spot on a hillside, Frodo landed smoothly. He waited until Aria was off before dismounting. The vista before them, on a clear day such as this, was incredible. Even the Black Lake added to the details.

Shortly after sitting down, Frodo turned to Aria, telling her, “It’s a great view, isn’t it?”

“It’s peaceful,” she answered, “and quiet.” She asked, “Frodo, why did you bring me here?”

“Why else would I do this?” He inquired. Setting his broom down, and finding a place to sit next to Aria, Frodo replied, “I thought this would lighten your spirit, give you something else to think about.” He asked, “What do you think?”

“I need the fresh air,” she said, casually. Frodo chuckled behind his teeth.

“I suppose you’re right.”

“Thank you for bringing me along.”

“You’re welcome.” Frodo grinned at her.

“Frodo, what do you think will happen this year? Just your guess.”

“Whatever the voices mean, the ones we keep hearing… they got to mean something. Don’t they?”

“I would tell you, but I…”

“Don’t ruin it for me. We’ll find out as we go.”

“Yeah,” Aria said, giving a small grin.

Frodo understood. Even though Aria would have given him details, he figured it was for the best to be quiet. Otherwise, they would most likely face the consequences for their actions. What happened to them next remained to be seen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realize I’ve been putting in a lot of scenes between Frodo and me. I don’t intend on that happening, but then there was this gap during the time I was working on _Strong Intentions_. Hopefully, I’ll get through most of this story before I work on _Strong Intentions_ once again. But we’ll see. Thanks for reading. :) As usual, more is to come…


	14. Pepperup Potion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimers:** All material from The Lord of the Rings trilogy belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien and New Line Cinema. All material from the Harry Potter series belongs to J.K. Rowling and Warner Brothers. All original material belongs to the author of this fanfiction story.
> 
>  **Acknowledgments:** Thanks to TooLazyToLogIn for sparking the idea for this series. And thanks to my friends ValueMyHeart, DoctorWhovian18 and LOTCR for their ideas, permission for them to enter this story and support. It’s much appreciated. :)
> 
> Inspiration for the beginning of this chapter came from Elwen’s fanfic “Begin Again” and for canonical reference from the Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets book.

October arrived with the cold and flu. As the illnesses spread, they soon found their way to the hobbits, as well as their authors and authoresses. On one such day, at the beginning of the month, the cold and flu found their way to Frodo and Aria, who caught the cold and possibly the flu at the same time. Eventually, after a few refuses from either Frodo, Aria or both, Hermione stepped in.

“Look, why don’t you two head to the Hospital Wing?” she badgered the two.

“I’m telling you, Hermione, we’re fine. I hope,” Frodo looked at Aria now. She was as stubborn than he… well, they were both stubborn. Taking Aria’s hand, Frodo led her to the Hospital Wing. There, they were stopped by Madam Pomfrey.

“Well, another two students who have the cold and flu.” Madam Pomfrey pointed to two chairs. “Better have a seat. I’ll get the Pepperup potion ready.”

“Pepperup potion,” Aria murmured.

“Huh?” Frodo asked her. “Speak up, Aria.” A ringing sensation entered his eardrums, making it hard for him to hear much of anything or anybody.

“She’s giving us Pepperup potion,” she said, her voice stuffy.

“Yeah,” he said. “Do you know what it does?”

“Well, from what I read, it has a smoky aftertaste. I’m not sure what else it does,” she admitted. “Achoo!”

“Then why…” Frodo was cut off, the moment Madam Pomfrey handed him and Aria a vial each, filled with red liquid. He looked at Aria, only to see she drank the potion down. He paused for a moment, until his nose felt stuffed up as well. In one gulp, he drank down the liquid inside the vial.

Before too long, Frodo and Aria’s ears were smoking. It was a side effect of the Pepperup potion, but one that took a few hours to clear up. Afterwards, the two friends were allowed to leave the Hospital Wing. In the corridor outside the Hospital Wing, Frodo and Aria met up with Harry, Ron and Hermione.

“There you are!” Hermione walked right up to the two.

“I see your ears are still smoking,” Ron announced. “I can’t imagine pepperup potion tasting terrible.”

“If you love peppermint,” Harry answered.

“Well, I should head off to class. I’ll see you later.” Aria smiled at Frodo for a moment. Frodo sighed, waving to her in return.

“So how are you all doing?” Frodo asked, facing them. “Well, I’m sure.”

“Better, ever since I drank the Pepperup potion,” Harry answered.

“Well, we should head to Charms class. See you later, Frodo!’ Hermione waved to him, before following Harry and Ron.

It dawned on him. Potions class. Frodo needed to get there straightaway. Relieved that he had his books and supplies, Frodo peeled his way past the crowd and into the dungeons. By the time he reached the door, he made it just in the nick of time. He strolled over to his seat before Professor Snape said anything. But unfortunately, Snape turned his way.

“Mr. Baggins, how clever of you to show up in the nick of time.” Snape continued his instruction to the class. “Today, we will be studying the Wiggenweld potion. The Wiggenweld potion, as we already learned from last year for those who have forgotten, has the following ingredients: flobberworm mucus, horklumps, Mandrake root…”

Towards the end of the lesson, Frodo and the rest of his classmates ended up with an essay on Flobberworm mucus. That left him no choice but to go to the library and look up the potion ingredient. Good thing he had Folco to help with the essay…

“Fredegar, I’m coming your way!” Folco said. He turned to Frodo, asking him, “Do you want to come with us? Fatty and me are going to test the water plants out by the Black Lake.”

“No. You go on ahead,” Frodo said.

“Are you sure?” he asked further. “We can wait…” Folco was stopped by Fatty, who charged up next to him. “Easy there, Fatty.”

“Folco, you’re missing out on the action at the Quidditch stadium,” Fatty said in encouragement.

“No, it’s fine.” Frodo suggested, “I’m going to find Merry and Pippin, or Sam and Aria, or maybe…” his voice fell silent as he climbed up the stairs. He looked back once at Fatty and Folco. He didn’t like leaving them behind.

“No, you go on ahead, Frodo,” Folco said, waving to him.

Frodo waved back, but he felt as though he was neglecting Folco and Fatty. Well, he couldn’t help it with his last adventure. He was traveling then with Harry, Ron, Hermione and Aria. But now, it was as if he had to keep track of all his friends… oh wait. He was already doing that. Shaking off the thoughts, Frodo rushed up the stairs, back to the viaduct entrance.

Frodo stopped mid-step upon seeing Aria. He felt weird inside, but then he could feel his hands sparking wildly. Why was he still losing control of his hand magic? He resolved to figuring that out by asking Professor Flitwick.

As he journeyed up the stairs, he wondered what he could say to his Charms teacher this time. He hoped there was a good reason for his magic getting out of control. At last, he made it to Flitwick’s office and knocked on the door. He heard a faint, muffled voice on the other side of the door, until the door was opened for him. Frodo stepped inside, determined to get this matter straightened out.

“Oh, it’s you, Frodo. Come in.” Flitwick asked him next, “And close the door while you’re at it.”

Frodo followed his instruction. Once the door was closed, he showed his hands. “It’s happening again. I thought it stopped the last time we met.”

“You were in control then,” the Charms teacher answered.

“Yes, but it seems like every time I get close to my authoress, sparks fly out of my hands.” Frodo sat down on the chair nearest Flitwick’s desk. “It’s hard to explain.”

“Frodo, how did you control your hand magic last year? Do you remember?” Flitwick asked, curious.

“I stayed focus on the task. I concentrated on what I need to do.” Frodo looked at his hands. They were back to normal.

Flitwick smiled at him. “We’ll continue our lessons on Saturday. You’ll get there, Frodo.”

“Thank you, professor.” Frodo said, leaving the Charms’ teacher’s office.

The hobbit boy shook his head. Hadn’t he already attempted to gain control of his hand magic. Why then was it that year that he was screwing up? No, he shouldn’t doubt himself. He was a decent hobbit. Maybe the losing control of his hand magic occurred on and off. Still, as he entered the Great Hall for lunch, he stopped upon seeing Aria, leaving an empty space for him. Surely, he was all right… no, the hand magic was a bit out of sorts. And yet he sat down at the Ravenclaw table anyway.

He smiled at his authoress, happy to see she was in a good mood.

“How was your day?” Aria asked.

“Pretty good. My hand magic’s still out of control,” Frodo admitted, as he bit down on a piece of cheese. He admitted a moment later, “But yeah, I’m gaining a little control over it.”

“That’s good to know,” she said.

“Do you have magic?” He guessed she didn’t.

“Well, if you mean with stories, then yes. Maybe I do have magic in me,” she replied. “Maybe I do. I don’t know.”

Whatever the case, Frodo was glad to see her.

*.*.*

Rain pelted the ground in sheets, signifying a wet autumn month. Since Frodo wasn’t allowed to practice and win real matches for his teammates, he resolved to finding other activities to do. This included playing wizard’s chess with Fred, George and Ron. So far, the term proved to be eventful, but it wasn’t complete without its pranksters. Those that dared cross the pranksters Fred and George, Merry and Pippin, and Amy and Abigail were greeted with a showering of their latest inventions.

The top favorite prank, in Aria’s mind, was the swamp pranks. Fred and George, so far, had the miniature swamps, which they bought and paid for at the joke shop in Diagon Alley. And when Frodo felt ready to spring his own pranks, he chose to pull them on his least favorite target: Lotho Sackville-Baggins. But this year, Lotho was in a perpetual frustrated mood. Frodo wondered what was bothering him, but then thought against it.

Surely Lotho hadn’t turned over a new leaf.

Aside from Lotho, Frodo’s focus was on his studies. His hand magic did improve, but his fingers still showed sparks from time to time. Maybe it was because he was getting older and more mature… well, he would need to focus, if he wanted to get it corrected. Plus, he had Sindri and Professor Flitwick. He hoped he would regain control of his hand magic sooner than later.

-.-.-

On the third week in October, Frodo left Sindri’s class, ready for lunch. Just as he moved past the blazing torches, he stopped upon seeing a crowd of second year authors and authoresses pouring over the noticeboard. Making his way past the green cushioned couches, Frodo advanced towards the noticeboard. He moved past the crowd of onlookers, only to find a large parchment with an ominous message in bold lettering:

**AUTHORS BEWARE!**

**Frodo Baggins has read The Hobbit book.**

_Please keep him away from the books,  
especially those foretelling future events._

Thank You.

“Is it true?” one authoress asked the hobbit boy. “Did you really read your Uncle Bilbo’s story?”

“Uh…” Frodo didn’t know what to say. “Maybe.” At least he spoke the truth.

“Why would you do that?” the same authoress asked.

Frodo backed up. The crowd of authors and authoresses wasn’t happy. Wait. Did Aria tell them he had read the book. He spun around, only to see Aria standing behind him. She looked distraught.

“I can explain,” Aria stammered.

“Why would you tell them?” Frodo asked.

“I don’t know who wrote this. Why would…” Aria was cut off by an older voice. Frodo looked up, as Aria spun around, at a woman with auburn hair and wearing brown robes. “I didn’t say anything about this.”

“I know,” the woman with the auburn hair said, gently. “Calm down, Aria.”

Frodo asked her, “Did you write that?” He asked, politely, “Who are you?”

“Iris Whimsbee, Head of the Authoresses,” said the woman in introduction. She moved towards the noticeboard. “There’s a reason this is here.” She turned to Frodo, admitting, “This is what we feared would happen. The moment one hobbit gets his hands on a book with future events, the direr the situation becomes to keep that knowledge private.” She asked Frodo and Aria, “I’m sure you two don’t want to get into trouble. It’s one thing to keep the past in line. It’s another to admit future events before they happen.”

“Not all stories are like that,” Aria said, serious.

Frodo was astonished. Why would… he turned to her now, “You wanted this to happen.”

“It’s not like that. I mean… do you remember last year, when you asked for The Hobbit book?” Aria asked. Frodo nodded. She explained, “I only gave it to you to read because it’s already in the past. If I gave you Harry’s book series, you could only read the first book because those events are now past.” She turned to Miss Whimsbee. “Is that correct?”

“That’s correct,” Whimsbee answered.

Frodo was confused. ‘Wait. What?” He asked, calming down some, “Then why put up that message? If I can only read books in the past, then wha…” He admitted a second later. “This is confusing.”

“I’m sorry, Frodo. I thought what I said last year was clear enough,” Aria admitted.

“You were sheepish and shier last year,” Frodo said, grinning at her. He told Miss Whimsbee, truthfully, “I think I understand now.” He asked, curious. “May I see Harry’s book series? Please?”

“You can only read the first book, though,” Miss Whimsbee said, passing to the hobbit a copy of the first book in the Harry Potter series: _The Philosopher’s Stone_. On the front cover had a boy that resembled Harry, trying to catch the Golden Snitch. Frodo took the book without question. Already he could feel the book’s power in his hands, or was it his hand magic. Either way, the book was getting thicker. By the time he opened it up, there were pages written about himself and with his friends, including all the pranks they pulled that year.

The book’s pages also revealed his parents. Frodo stopped on one page, which had dialogue between him and his parents. He could feel tears welling up in his eyes. He wiped his nose with a clean sleeve. The memories resurfaced in his mind. He missed his parents, but it was getting easier to remember them.

Frodo looked up at the authors and authoresses. He turned once to Aria, telling her with kindness, “Thank you.” He stuffed the hardcover book in his satchel.

“Yes,” Miss Whimsbee gave it some thought, “yes indeed. You might as well keep that book. It may come in handy later on.”

“Well, since I’m not an author – I don’t know when I’ll be one, but…”

“Frodo, in many ways, you’re caught up in Harry’s adventures. There may come a time when you become an author, if you so choose.” Miss Whimsbee added, “When that day comes, we’ll reveal more information to you. You’re not yet ready for the future books in the Harry Potter set, or your own story. When you are ready, let me know or the Head of the Authors. We may have use for you yet.” She paused, turning to Aria, “And Aria, we’ll protect you for as long as we can. That diary you have may be useful sometime. We’ll see.” She walked away, just as the message on the noticeboard vanished.

Frodo turned his gaze to Aria. He asked her, “Ehh… do you understand what’s going on?”

“Maybe,” Aria answered.

“What did she mean about Otho’s diary?” Frodo asked, quite confused.

“I guess we’ll find out,” she replied.

“Unless you already know…”

“I have a hunch, but that’s all I’ve got,” Aria said.

“Well, let’s go and get some lunch,” Frodo said, gesturing towards a portrait hole.

“That sounds good,” she said, as Frodo took her hand.

Once they left the portrait hole, Frodo darted down the corridor. He stayed ahead of her, managing to beat their chase. Aria panted for a couple of seconds. When she was ready, Frodo led her into the Great Hall. Already, the school had arrived to for their early afternoon meal. To Frodo, it only meant the middle of the day.

Towards evening, Frodo retreated into the boy’s dormitory and opened _The Philosopher’s Stone_ book. Turning to the first page, he read the first chapter to himself: _Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, of number four, Private Drive…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So much better. Thanks for reading the story so far. :)


	15. The Writing on the Wall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimers:** All material from The Lord of the Rings trilogy belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien and New Line Cinema. All material from the Harry Potter series belongs to J.K. Rowling and Warner Brothers. All original material belongs to the author of this fanfiction story.
> 
>  **Acknowledgements:** Thanks goes to TooLazyToLogIn for sparking the idea for this series. And thanks also to ValueMyHeart, SweetDarkSilence, Doctorwhovian18 and LOTCR for their support, ideas, and giving me permission to put them into this story and series. :)
> 
> Here’s the rewrite for Chapter 15. :) The passages in this chapter come from The Chamber of Secrets book and movie adaptation.

Frodo finished the _Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone_ book in almost two weeks. By the time he finally finished the last chapter, in the first part of Harry’s life, it was already five o’ clock. Realizing the time, he stuffed the book inside his satchel and fled down the stairs. His path was blocked by Aria, who crossed her arms. Frodo chuckled in embarrassment. He hadn’t expected to see her.

“Aria, what a surprise,” he said, shyly.

“Are you finished reading the… the first book?” Aria was pointing to the Philosopher’s Stone book.

“Yeah, I am,” Frodo said, handing the book to her.

“I’ll drop this off. Here,” she showed him the slot for books the Authors and Authoresses used. She turned to Frodo, admitting, “I’ll see you later.”

“Yeah. See you later,” he said, waving to her.

Frodo stood next to a blue couch, his thoughts drawn elsewhere. Then he remembered: Nearly Headless Nick had invited him to the deathday party, which started at seven o’ clock that evening. But then Nick was Gryffindor House’s ghost. Why was he invited… oh, now he remembered that conversation: _Frodo had wandered down the sixth floor corridor, two days prior. He was met by the Gryffindor ghost, who took him by surprise._

_“See here, you fiend!” Sir Cadogan croaked. He shoved his pony, hoping it would move. “Come now, you beast, you braggart!” His dappled grey steed would not budge, only neigh and whinny out of frustration. Frodo couldn’t help but laugh at the knight’s sour display of chivalry. Fortunately, Nick got the hobbit boy’s attention._

_“Yes. I am having my five hundredth deathday party on Halloween in the dungeons. The party starts at seven o’ clock on Hallows Eve. Feel free to come to the party then. I just invited Harry Potter,” Nick explained._

_“I know who Harry is.” Frodo told him, delighted. “I’ll see you then.” Even though it felt strange to him that a ghost would celebrate his death day. Still, he wondered how the party would turn out with him involved. Maybe he would invite Sam. Then again, Aria was another choice he thought of. Surely she would have a good time at the party._

Now that day had arrived. But would Aria attend the party. He checked the tower’s loft, only to find Aria engulfed in a conversation with one of her fellow authors. He stopped then and there, clearing his throat to get her attention.

“Aria, I…” Frodo looked down at his hands. They were sparking again. He grinned at her, telling her, “I’ll see you later.” His insides were screaming at him to bring Aria along, but given the trouble they were in by the Heads of the Authors and Authoresses. Another thought came to mind: _Go and ask Sam to come to the party._ It was the second time he…

No wait. He already invited Sam and half his friends to come to the deathday party. And now, here he was, heading for the dungeons. He looked up at the grim-looking candles. Before he knew it, he was at the dungeon where Nearly Headless Nick was celebrating his deathday.

It didn’t take long to find Harry, Ron, Hermione and Sam. The four friends wandered about the dungeon, talking with the spectral ghosts. Frodo rushed over to his four friends, getting their attentions right away.

“Oh Frodo, you made it,” Hermione said, relieved to see him.

“No one else came,” Frodo asked, curious.

“We thought you’d bring Miss Aria,” Sam asked, a little braver. He backed off, sheepishly, “I see she’s not with you.”

“I tried, but…” Frodo stared at his hands again. They were still sparking on and off. “I’m still attempting to control my hand magic.”

“Maybe it’s because we’re getting older. It’s a new trick,” Ron said.

“Or your magic’s growing stronger, as we grow up,” Hermione suggested.

“Yeah,” Frodo said, unsure what to make of his sparking powers. He changed the subject, a moment after the sparks on his fingers stopped, “So is there anything interesting about this party?”

“Well…” Ron gave up. “Let’s go.”

Frodo didn’t want to upset the guests. Quietly, he followed his four friends out of the dungeon. They had just reached the stairs, leading back to the entrance hall when he heard the slithering voice again.

_“Come… come to me… let me rip you…”_

The voice was moving. Frodo knew that much. He turned to his friends, but it seemed like Sam and Harry expressed the same, disturbed look on their faces.

“You can hear it, too?” Frodo asked Harry and Sam.

“Yeah, but…” Sam was cut off by Harry, who was just as scared.

“It’s moving. Come on,” Harry gestured to them.

In a mad rush, the five friends raced through the entrance hall and up the Grand Staircase. Frodo was sure he heard something this time, but wasn’t sure… no, the voice was definitely moving. Just as Harry stopped, Frodo and Sam bumped into him. They were fortunate that they didn’t crash in a heap on the wet floor.

Wait… the floor was wet.

Frodo followed Harry, Sam, Ron and Hermione, but keeping a way lookout for the voice. The voice had mysteriously vanished, but on the wall in front of them were words scrawled on the wall.

THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS BEEN   
OPENED. ENEMIES OF THE HEIR, BEWARE.

Below this writing was another message, writing in a bold script.

**The Heirs are on their way.  
Hogwarts has been warned.**

Frodo stared at both messages. Neither one sounded promising, but disturbing. Who would do this? He hadn’t the faintest clue. And it wasn’t over, for resting by her tail on a torch bracket was a cat. No, it was Mrs. Norris, Filch’s cat.

As he approached the frozen cat, Frodo looked about him and his friends. Students and staff were approaching the corridor, and in large groups. Their cheerful conversations were doused the moment they saw Frodo and Harry standing next to Mrs. Norris, right under the messages written in blood.

“Enemies of the Heir, beware!” Draco Malfoy turned on them, spitting out, “You’ll be next, Mudbloods!’

Malfoy wasn’t alone, for Lotho chimed in. “The Heirs are on their way.” He lashed out, looking in Frodo and Harry’s direction, “I hope you don’t plan on attacking me next!”

 _Never mind_ , Frodo thought. Lotho already answered what he guessed: he was more concerned about himself, more than helping him with this issue. Then again, Lotho was on Draco’s side since they’d been in school for their first year. His thoughts about Lotho were put aside when Mr. Filch arrived on the scene.

“What have you done? Both of you! Murderers to my cat! I’ll…” Filch was ready to strike at Frodo and Harry. Frodo shut his eyes momentarily, only to reopen them when Dumbledore arrived and took Mrs. Norris down from the torch bracket.

“Let’s discuss this more in my office,” Dumbledore said to the staff, Frodo and his friends.

“Why not my office? It’s closer,” Lockhart suggested.

“Very well. Lead on,” Dumbledore said. He pointed to Harry, Ron, Hermione, Frodo and Sam. “Come along now, all of you.”

In a silent manner, Frodo followed the teachers and his friends past the crowd. He didn’t know if Aria was among the students present. Remembering where he was, he continued his journey through the corridors and stairs until they came to Lockhart’s office on the third floor. Frodo didn’t hesitate to enter the darkened office, which contained portraits of Gilderoy Lockhart. To his surprise, Sindri the dwarf was also present at this distressful meeting. Frodo watched Dumbledore as the Headmaster set Mrs. Norris on the desk.

Filch cried out at the sight of his cat. Frodo pitied him for it. He hadn’t expected to do that.

“She’s not dead, Argus,” Dumbledore addressed the caretaker. “She has been Petrified. But how, I cannot say…”

“Ask them,” Filch said, pointing to Frodo and Harry. “They did it. The writing on the wall, my cat has been Petrified.”

“I didn’t do it,” Frodo spoke, politely.

“I never _touched_ Mrs. Norris,” Harry added, truthfully.

“Rubbish,” Filch countered.

“It is suspicious that Mr. Baggins and Mr. Potter weren’t in the Great Hall, enjoying the Halloween feast,” Snape added, eyeing the two students. As Harry, Frodo and their friends explained they had gone to Nick’s deathday party, Snape raised an eyebrow at them, “Without any supper?”

“We weren’t hungry,” Ron said.

Snape’s smirk turned into a wicked smile.

“Innocent until proven guilty, Severus,” Dumbledore said firmly. He then told Mr. Filch, “Professor Sprout has procured Mandrakes. When they are full grown, we will be able to revive Mrs. Norris.” He turned his gaze to Harry, Ron, Hermione, Sam and Frodo. “You may go.”

Silently, the five friends left Lockhart’s office. They waited until they were in an empty classroom, before Harry spoke up: “Do you think we should have told them that Frodo, Sam and I heard the same voice?”

“We don’t even know if it was the same voice, Harry,” Ron said.

“It was heading in the same direction.” Frodo asked, “What else could it be?”

“Even in the Wizarding World, hearing voices no one else can hear is a bad sign.” Ron admitted, “But it is weird that you three, and Aria, heard the same voice.”

“That’s the point. What was that mysterious voice, and the writing on the wall?” Sam interjected.

“There’s a lot about this evening that doesn’t make sense,” Harry admitted.

“What should we do now?” Frodo asked, concerned.

“Let’s get out of here,” Harry said, “before Snape tries to frame us for something else.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I guess we’re heading out of October and into November, story wise. Thanks for reading. :) The story continues in the next chapter…


	16. Moaning Myrtle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimers:** All material from The Lord of the Rings trilogy belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien and New Line Cinema. All material from the Harry Potter series belongs to J.K. Rowling and Warner Brothers. All original material belongs to the author of this fanfiction story.
> 
>  **Acknowledgements:** Thanks to TooLazyToLogIn for sparking the idea for this series. And thanks to ValueMyHeart, SweetDarkSilence, Doctorwhovian18 and LOTCR for their support, ideas, permission to add them to the story, etc. And thanks also goes out to the readers for their continued support, ideas, etc. :)
> 
> Here’s the rewrite for Chapter 16.

In the days that followed, everyone could talk of nothing else but the attack on Mrs. Norris. It became evident when the pranks lessened. The authors and authoresses, down in their own chamber, whispered and murmured to each other, hoping that one of them might be allowed to journey with Harry, Ron, Hermione and maybe Frodo and Sam, for they had a sneaky suspicion that Frodo would take Sam this year to the Chamber of Secrets.

But not every authoress was happy to hear the news. Aria was distraught at Mrs. Norris being petrified. Eventually, she did snap out of her depression, but that did not stop her frantic hope that Filch’s cat would be unpetrified by the end of term.

One morning, during Sindri’s class, Aria dared ask the dwarf teacher, “Professor Sindri, what can you tell us about the Chamber of Secrets?”

The whole classroom fell silent.

“Miss Breuer, why do you ask such a question? Do you think I would know the answer?” Sindri spoke up, tensely.

Frodo raised his hand. That got Sindri’s attention.

“Yes Mr. Baggins,” the dwarf instructor asked.

“Aria has a point, sir. What do you know about the Chamber of Secrets?” Frodo asked, politely.

“Oh, all right.” Sindri told the tale, “When Hogwarts began, there were four founders: Godric Gryffindor, Helga Hufflepuff, Rowena Ravenclaw and Salazar Slytherin. Three of the founders sought peace and a school for everyone. Salazar Slytherin went against the four, as he only wanted to allow pure-bloods into the school. When the other three went against him, Slytherin decided to leave the school. Before he left, he built a hidden chamber in the castle, guarded by a monster, and named it the Chamber of Secrets.”

He added, “Every witch or wizard knows this story. But the chamber itself has been lost for centuries. No one knows where it is or where it’s kept.” He returned to the subject at hand. “Now, onto today’s lesson: how to create a useful story with magic as our aide…”

When the lesson ended and Frodo collected his books, he regrouped with Aria, Sam, Merry and Pippin. Fatty Bolger and Folco Boffin darted down the corridor before they had the chance to speak to their friends. However, Frodo’s mind was fixed on the story Sindri wove. He wasn’t’ the only one thinking this restless thought.

“Is it true? That another chamber exists in the castle,” Frodo asked his friends.

“Aria would know.” Merry said, pointing to Frodo’s authoress.

“Yeah. She has Harry’s books, doesn’t she?” Pippin said, giddily.

“How would you know that?” Aria asked, her gaze on the floor in front of them.

“We think it’s obvious. I mean, you are an authoress,” Merry said.

“Good point.” Aria ended her part in the conversation. “I’ve got to go. Lots to studying to do. I’ll see you later.” She ran off down the corridor. Frodo was stunned.

“Where is she running off to?” Frodo did find it odd. Usually Aria spoke to him more. Maybe she was too distraught, due to the attack on Filch’s cat.

“Maybe it would be better if we asked Harry, Ron and Hermione…” Sam was cut off, the moment Merry clamped a hand on his shoulder.

“That sounds like a good idea,” Merry agreed.

“Let’s ask them,” Pippin said.

-.-.-

The four hobbits found Harry, Ron and Hermione on the second floor, where the mysterious messages were scrawled on the wall. What did it mean? And where did the water come from? Hermione and Ron concluded that it came from the girl’s bathroom, just down the next corridor. In spite of Ron’s protest, Hermione answered the bathroom belonged to Moaning Myrtle, the ghost who haunted the bathroom.

“Go on,” Harry said, waiting on the four hobbits to follow them. Frodo still couldn’t believe they were entering a girl’s bathroom.

“Well, it could be worse,” Frodo said, distraught for a moment.

“Don’t say that,” Ron insisted.

“Why is everyone disturbing my peace and quiet?” Moaning Myrtle asked, annoyed.

“At least we found a place hardly anyone will…” Frodo was cut off by Hermione, who told them:

“Come on. Let’s go.” Hermione said.

Frodo stared at the ghostly girl one last time. He and Ron nearly crashed into each other, upon leaving the girl’s bathroom. Just as they closed the door, the group were stopped by Percy Weasley, who was in a sour mood. After Ron and Percy’s argument, it was clear they needed to move away from the area, before they got into deeper trouble. However, Gryffindor lost five points, due to what Percy called their detective work.

Frodo said nothing to Percy. He didn’t want to risk Ravenclaw losing house points. He wasn’t alone, for Sam was trembling. Sam told Frodo later that his brothers and sisters would have his neck if they lost points for Hufflepuff.

-.-.-

Early the next morning, Frodo met with Sam, Merry, Pippin, Harry, Ron and Hermione down the sixth floor corridor. Frodo muffled the sound by use of his hand magic, which he was beginning to regain control. The spell worked and proved a bit more powerful than he expected. At least they could talk as loudly as they liked.

“Thank you, Frodo,” Ron said, cheerful.

“Oh brilliant!” Hermione said, delighted.

“So what were you trying to say?” Frodo asked.

“We talked about it, and…” Hermione was interrupted by Harry, who spoke out of turn.

“We’re going to use Polyjuice potion to sneak into the Slytherin common room.”

“Excellent!” Merry said.

“How do you use Polyjuice potion?” Sam asked.

“It’ll transform us for an hour into another person,” Hermione explained.

“Oh brilliant,” Merry and Pippin said at the same time.

“I think the authors and authoresses beat us to it, though,” Hermione admitted, “but don’t worry. They’ll keep an eye on us when we’re in the Slytherin common room.”

“So Aria will be involved,” Frodo asked.

“Most likely, but she’s still distraught over what happened to Mrs. Norris. She’s almost as bad as Ginny.” Ron added. “Cat lovers.”

“Oh Ron, what if I get a cat?” Hermione snapped.

“That’ll be a nightmare!” Ron said, “Poor Scabbers.”

“Frodo, how long does this muffling spell last?” Harry asked, right as the invisible bubble popped. Frodo stared at the ceiling to the corridors. The sound was returning.

Frodo confessed, guiltily, “That long.” He apologized to his friends, “Sorry. My hand magic’s a bit out of sorts recently.”

“You should see my wand. It’s still broken, until I get a new wand,” Ron told him, pulling out his taped up wand.

“I digress,” Frodo said, conceding.

“Can we go to the Great Hall now?” Ron asked the group.

“Right. Let’s go,” Harry said.

Frodo stayed behind for a few moments. His mind was restless, and yet his invisibility barrier and sound barrier were stronger this time around. Maybe he was getting the hang of it, but then anything could happen at Hogwarts.

“Mr. Frodo, you comin’?” Sam asked. Frodo thoughts returned to the present.

“Yes Sam, I’m coming.” Frodo dashed towards his friend. The two followed their other friends back to the Grand Staircase. At least he got something right: his hand magic was stronger than last year. He hadn’t been in that much control before. Still, he wondered if his hand magic was under his control. And his fingers sparked again.

Hm… maybe he needed more confidence in himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter rewritten and complete, but this is not the end of the story. Thanks for reading this story so far. :)


	17. Kanker's Warning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimers:** All material from The Lord of the Rings trilogy belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien and New Line Cinema. All material from the Harry Potter series belongs to J.K. Rowling and Warner Brothers. All original material belongs to the author of this fanfiction story.
> 
>  **Acknowledgements:** As usual, thanks to TooLazyToLogIn for the idea that sparked this series. And thanks also to SweetDarkSilence, ValueMyHeart, Doctorwhovian18 and LOTCR for your support, permission to bring you all into the story, ideas, etc.
> 
> Here is the rewritten version for Chapter 17.

It turned out Hermione was partially right about the Polyjuice Potion. The authors and authoresses had their own separate mix of ingredients to turn them into other people. And yet, the ingredients for the potion were still available. As much as she would have wanted to go about brewing the potion the easy way, she decided on getting the book from the Restricted section of the library.

This part of the plan worked out easily, for Lockhart signed her permission slip to get the book _Moste Potente Potions_ from the library. After some convincing, Madam Pince handed the potion book to Hermione. Harry, Ron and Hermione then left the library, doing the best they could to not look too suspicious or guilty.

At last, the three friends met up with Frodo, Sam, Merry and Pippin, who were already inside Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom. Frodo stood up as the two wizards and witch entered the room.

“Did you find it?” Frodo asked.

“Yes,” Hermione said, flipping through the pages until she found the right potion. “Here it is. The Polyjuice potion.” She added, “It’s complicated. There’s ingredients we need to find. Shredded boomslang skin, bicorn horn… it’ll take a month to make the potion and find all the ingredients we need.”

“What if Lotho attacks the school, before the potion’s ready?” Frodo asked. A silence fell, at which he gathered, “Well, Lotho was acting like he would attack anyone on sight.”

“Yes, Draco and Lotho could be Slytherin’s heirs,” Hermione said, agreeing with him.

“With luck, we make the potion on time.” Merry asked, discreetly, “What if Lotho and Malfoy attack the school before we’re through making the batch?”

“Exactly,” Hermione answered. She added, hastily, “Unless you lot chicken out before then.”

“It’s our best chance we have of catching Malfoy and Lotho in the act,” Ron said with a sigh.

-.-.-

On Saturday morning, Frodo followed the Ravenclaws to the Quidditch stadium. Even though he wasn’t allowed to play Quidditch, it was all right for him to be in the stands with the crowd. Although, he wouldn’t have minded taking his broomstick, the one his parents gave as a gift for him during Yule, and flying around the Quidditch stadium. He wondered if brooms became tired easily, but then he was talking about an inanimate object.

As he stood up, when the game began, Frodo locked eyes with Pearl Took. He hadn’t expected this, but where was Aria? She wasn’t present at the game either. And yet, Pearl seemed more than willing to talk to him.

“You’ve grown, about two inches at least,” Pearl said.

“Hm.” Frodo looked himself over momentarily. “I haven’t noticed before.”

“Come on, Frodo. Surely you would have.” She did sound more mature.

“Actually, I didn’t… until you said something,” he recovered slightly.

“Oh Frodo. When are you going to notice girls?” she asked him.

“What?” He was shocked.

“Watch out!” It was Aria. Aria was here at the Quidditch match? Frodo gazed up at the sky, right as a bludger sailed right at him.

“Duck!” Frodo screeched, covering Pearl as the bludger moved inches from his ears. He ducked again when Harry zoomed past him, again inches from his ears and face. Frodo leapt down to the bottom of the stands, hoping his hand magic would prove useful against the bludger.

Readying his hands, Frodo threw a large ball of white light into the bludger’s path. He made sure that the light wouldn’t harm the other students or Harry, but enough to confuse the bludger. Only the second bludger ricocheted right for him. Frodo threw another ball of magical light in the second bludger’s path. He ducked as both bludgers zoomed past him and the crowds, inches from where they were. Eventually, one of the teachers stopped the bludgers, much to Frodo’s relief.

“Ow.” He checked his right ear, only to find dried blood that nearly turned wet again. His mind was caught in a temporary daze when Pearl approached him.

“Oh Frodo, you’re hurt,” Pearl whimpered, checking his right ear.

“It’s a scratch.” Frodo conceded. “I’ll go and see Madam Pomfrey, if it pleases you.”

“You will?” Pearl said, dazzled. She embraced him, “Oh, thank you Frodo.”

“All right, let’s go.” Frodo said, moving Pearl off of him, gently. The second he looked up, Frodo met Aria’s flustered gaze. Before he could catch her, she ran off. He wondered where she ran off to this time, and yet he felt dizziness surrounding his vision again. He was thankful for Pearl to help him climb down the steps and out of the Quidditch stadium.

-.-.-

“Ah. Ow!” Frodo winced in pain. Madam Pomfrey was pressing so hard on his ear as she bandaged it. Frodo was thankful for her help. However, he couldn’t help but notice Harry and his rubbery arm. He supposed that Harry was suffering worse than he was.

“There. And here is some Wiggenweld Potion to heal your ear.” Madam Pomfrey handed to the hobbit lad a glass filled with green liquid. She said last, “When your ear is better, you may go.”

“Thank you,” he said, drinking the glass’ contents. He was amazed at the results. The moment he finished the glass, he could feel his ear healing itself. He pressed his hand to the bandage. It felt healed enough. But he didn’t have the heart to take the bandage off just yet, for his ear rang for a few minutes. “Wow.”

“You’re feeling better now?” It was Pearl Took. Had she been with him the whole time?

“I feel better,” Frodo said.

“Do you want me to help you with anything else?” Pearl asked. Boy, she sure was persistent.

“I’m good now. Thank you.” Frodo turned his attention to Harry, who wasn’t enjoying the Skele-Gro potion very much. Before he said anything, Madam Pomfrey checked up on him.

-.-.-

It took a good two hours before Frodo was allowed to leave the hospital wing. Afterwards, Frodo was free to wander the corridors again. He said farewell to Pearl, seconds into a voice whispering to follow him. Okay, he knew it wasn’t the slithering voice but a higher-pitched, squeaky sound. He followed the voice right into an empty classroom, where the door slammed shut on its own.

Appearing in the middle of the room was a house elf. It was Kanker. What was he doing in the castle, on the same day after the Quidditch match between Gryffindor and Slytherin?

“Kanker, what are you doing here?” Frodo asked, quite alarmed.

“Please Frodo Baggins, do not become upset. Kanker tried his best to keep Dobby in his place, but Kanker saw an opportunity to save Frodo Baggins’ life. Kanker thought it was a good idea to ricochet Dobby’s bludger with Kanker’s own bludger,” Kanker explained, hesitant.

“What? Why? Why would you use that bludger to attack…” Frodo understood, “You sent that bludger after me and Harry, didn’t you? That’s why they both attempted to attack me.”

“Kanker didn’t know Frodo Baggins uses hand magic,” Kanker squeaked.

“But why attack Harry and me? Why do it now, with all that is happening in the school?” Frodo edged towards the house elf, wanting to teach him a lesson.

“Kanker doesn’t mean to attack Frodo Baggins. Kanker was trying to help. Kanker doesn’t want Frodo Baggins injured,” the house elf pleaded.

Frodo paused. Kanker was so pitiful. It made the hobbit boy wonder who was in charge of the house elf. But then another thought struck him.

“Kanker, I wouldn’t normally ask this, but why do you wear a pillowcase?” he asked, even though it wasn’t what he normally asked anyone.

“This is Kanker’s attire, to be a servant in a master’s house. Kanker’s freedom hangs on my master presents clothes,” the house elf said, before changing the subject again. “Frodo Baggins must know that danger is lurking in the walls. If Frodo Baggins stays, more danger will ensue.”

“Does this have to do with the Chamber of Secrets?” Frodo asked in a whisper.

“No. Kanker’s said too much already.” In a breeze, Kanker vanished into thin air.

Frodo looked about the room for any sign of Kanker’s reappearance. The house elf didn’t return that night, much to the hobbit boy’s disdain and confusion. Kanker did admit about danger lurking inside the walls. Did that mean that whatever he, Harry, Sam and Aria were hearing was real? That the voice wasn’t just inside their heads?

Whatever it meant, Frodo regrouped with his friends in Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom the next morning. However, they learned from Harry that Colin Creevey had been petrified sometime in the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So far, so good. Thanks for reading so far. :) More chapters are coming…


	18. Introductory Class Examinations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimers:** All material from The Lord of the Rings trilogy belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien and New Line Cinema. All material from the Harry Potter series belongs to J.K. Rowling and Warner Brothers. All original material belongs to the author of this fanfiction story.
> 
>  **Acknowledgements:** Thanks to TooLazyToLogIn for the idea that sparked this series. And thanks goes to ValueMyHeart, SweetDarkSilence, DoctorWhovian18, and LOTCR for their ideas, support, permission to enter this story so far, etc.
> 
> Okay, so this chapter took a couple of rewrites to get right. Now, I think I’ve got it right this time, but we’ll see. :)

Frodo wasn’t the only one who heard about the attack on Colin Creevey. When news spread about the school, the first years stayed in tight-knit groups. Students also traded in for talismans and amulets. Neville bought some as well and, even though he was a pure-blood, he claimed that he was as close as he could get to being a Squib, which meant a witch or a wizard born without magic, even when their parents did have magic in their veins.

Ginny and Aria were especially unnerved. Ginny sat next to Colin for Charms class. Aria, on the other hand, only met Colin between breaks, when he wasn’t busy trying to get hers and Frodo’s autographs. And yet, with Colin Creevey petrified, thoughts took form amongst the students and staff. Some of those thoughts were not very promising.

But hardly any of the hobbits, authors and authoresses had time to dwell on the Chamber of Secrets – sadly, Frodo was still thinking about the chamber and the hunt to discover if Lotho was one of Slytherin’s heirs – for the next Saturday morning, Frodo and his classmates were in Sindri’s class, working on their written and practical exams. As the written exams were taken, students were called into the adjoining classroom, where they did their practical exams. Once more, the practical exams were run by a proctor, but it was a dwarf proctor for this year.

“Frodo Baggins,” the proctor called, reading through the list.

Frodo put his quill down, closed the ink bottle and followed the proctor into the adjoining room. This room, this time, looked very similar to Flitwick’s classroom, with etched writing along the walls. Books were stacked up on all sides of the room. Frodo was astonished.

“Now,” the dwarf proctor read on, “as I understand, your focus is on hand magic.” He examined his clipboard once again, before looking at Frodo. Grabbing a nearby stone, the dwarf proctor instructed the hobbit student, “Freeze this stone in mid-air.”

“Wha --?” Frodo was cut off the moment the dwarf proctor threw the stone in the air. Automatically, he raised his hand. An invisible wave stopped the rock enough for it to float in the air. Frodo was impressed, even with himself.

“Light the stone, send it ablaze,” the dwarf proctor told him. Frodo waved his hand, causing his hand magic to engulf the stone in a duo batch of orange flames. The proctor said, “Very well. Now jinx it, so the stone becomes a pumpkin head.”

That spell Frodo knew. Chuckling a little, he swiped his hand in the air, jinxing the stone into a pumpkin head for a moment. He waved an index finger to his magical hand. The stone retained its first form.

“Well, well indeed.” The dwarf proctor instructed, “Now transfigure the stone into a rabbit slipper.”

Oh no. How was he to do… oh, Frodo remembered. Waving his hand in a half circle, the stone transfigured into half a rabbit slipper. He nearly had it… no, he felt his body tremble. His hand dropped, allowing the stone to drop. As he held onto his knees, he looked up. The slipper was there, and then transfigured back into a stone. Before he toppled over, he collapsed onto a chair. He looked up to see the dwarf’s face.

“Thank you,” Frodo said, politely. “Did I pass or…”

“By a fleeting miracle, the stone was turned into a rabbit slipper.” The dwarf proctor told him. “Why don’t you rest for a minute.” He replied, “The exam’s nearly finished.”

Frodo took several deep breaths. By a miracle, he managed to transfigure the rabbit slipper. He couldn’t help it. His hand magic was becoming raw and out of control. How was he able to complete the transfiguration part of the exam? He wanted to ask, but he feared the proctor would write down what he said, thinking it was out of his mind.

Frodo’s thoughts were brought back to the present by the dwarf proctor, who asked him: “What have you learned in this Introductory class?” The proctor looked up at him. “Also, what do you hope to take away from this year?”

“Learning to control my hand magic, but…” Frodo looked down at his hands. They were sparking and tingling. “Why is my hand magic overreacting this year, more so than last year?”

“It might be from distractions. Is your mind restless?” The dwarf proctor asked. Frodo nodded. The proctor explained, “Whatever’s on your mind, you need to face this.” He asked next, “Is there anything you’d like to say?”

Should he tell the dwarf proctor about his parents, Aria, the Chamber of Secrets and how everyone thought he was one of Slytherin’s heirs? Frodo let go of the thought, at least for now. He shook his head. “No. There isn’t.”

“All right, you can go,” the dwarf proctor approached the door first. Frodo waved to the proctor before reentering the classroom.

Minutes passed before Sindri spoke to the class again. Minutes beforehand, Frodo finished the written exam, double-checked it for any mistakes, and handed it in. As Sindri spoke, the class learned something new, “Now, before this term is out, everyone here – yes, I do mean hobbits and authors alike – will be able to sign up for electives in this chamber. This natural, if you wish to spread out your classwork for something more creative. There will be a number of electives to choose from, ranging from crafting and writing, to book clubs. Basically, your variety of electives, magical and non-magical.” Murmurs spread amongst the students. This was going to be an exciting term.

Sindri spoke again. “Now, I hope you all learned something from this class. For some of you, that means understanding hobbits to understanding authors and authoresses.” He said last, minutes before the bell rang, “The exam results will be posted on the notice board in two weeks. I hope you all have a good rest of the term.”

DONG! DONG! DONG!

The bell rang slowly, signaling to the students that class had ended. Frodo grabbed his books and supplies before heading out. As he slung his satchel over his shoulders, Frodo ran into Aria. However, Aria was too distraught to say anything. Frodo grabbed her hand, stopping his authoress in mid step.

“Aria, Madam Pomfrey will heal Colin,” Frodo told her. “Just give her time.”

“Time is all we need.” Aria moved away, rushing off down the corridor.

Frodo heaved a sigh of frustration. He would try again someday soon to get Aria’s attention, as well as get her to talk to him some more. But when would that day come? He needed to see his friends, and check on the Polyjuice potion. Leaving Aria be, Frodo ran towards the nearest portrait hole and climbed through. Well, it was only a matter of time before the potion Hermione was brewing was finished.

Two weeks later, Frodo looked at the notice board. He passed the exam, but still had trouble with Herbology. Somehow, the proctor and Sindri liked his focus on hand magic, even congratulating him for his efforts. It really was a time for celebration. And yet, Frodo looked down at his hands. They were still sparking blue hisses of crystal magic…

-.-.-

On the second week of December, Professor McGonagall came around with a list for students spending the holidays at Hogwarts. Harry, Ron and Hermione signed up, for they heard that Draco Malfoy was spending the holidays at the school. Frodo was especially interested in signing up, for Lotho had decided to spend the holidays there as well. Between Frodo and the Golden Trio – Harry, Ron and Hermione as the authors and authoresses nicknamed them as – the fact that Lotho and Draco Malfoy were staying was suspicious. They had to find out if they were Slytherin’s heirs.

“Pippin and I will return to Hogwarts, when term resumed,” Merry addressed them.

“Let us know what you’ve found out then,” Pippin answered.

“Okay. Let me know how your holidays are at home,” Frodo replied.

“We will, Frodo,” Merry said, nodding.

Merry and Pippin weren’t the only ones ready to go home. Fatty and Folco had decided to journey back to the Shire as well. As for Sam… well, he and his brothers and sisters were spending the holidays at Hogwarts. Frodo was glad of this. He needed one of his kin by his side with this ordeal. And, in spite of his warnings about brewing the potion, Sam stuck by Frodo. Even Frodo could see that Sam had grown in confidence.

But that didn’t stop Harry and Hermione from collecting ingredients from Snape’s office, during their lesson. Frodo was relieved they came back safe and sound. The potion was nearly complete, now that the shredded boomslang skin and the bicorn horn were in their grasp.

-.-.-

A week passed. On the third week in December, a dueling club began to take shape in the Great Hall. That evening, Frodo accompanied Harry, Ron, Hermione and Sam in the Great Hall, which was transformed to have a stage in the center of the hall, with benches found along the walls. As the four friends entered the Great Hall, they met up with Fred, George, Sam, Merry and Pippin.

Frodo asked the group, “Has anyone seen Fatty, Folco and our authoress friends?” He wanted to include Aria, but… he didn’t know. Honestly, if she was a witch – he thought all authors and authoresses had some sort of magical abilities in them – no, maybe he was overanalyzing this. However, he received blank stares from his friends. “What? Don’t all authors and authoresses possess magical qualities?”

“From my research that I found on them,” Hermione interjected, “authors and authoresses don’t have the same magical skills that we do. In other words, their magic is not the same as ours.”

“So they do possess magical…”

“If you mean it that way, then yes they do. But it’s different to each author and authoress. Not everyone has the same abilities or focus to another,’ Hermione told him.

“Yeah, but how…” Frodo was cut off when Gilderoy Lockhart walked up on stage.

“Gather round, gather round! Can everyone see me? Can you all hear me? Excellent.” Lockhart called. Everyone’s attention was on him now as he delivered his introduction speech on the dueling club. Frodo understood what he was saying, but was stunned when Gilderoy was defeated by Professor Snape. However, the second Gilderoy was up and acting boastful, the hobbit boy shook his head. _Typical_ , Frodo thought to himself.

Soon after, everyone was paired up. Frodo, thanks to Snape, ended up dueling against his rival, Lotho Sackville-Baggins. Great. This was just what he needed. Following Lockhart’s instruction, Frodo and Lotho bowed, moving their wands to the ready position.

“I can’t wait until Mum and Dad own Bag End,” Lotho smiled wickedly. Frodo glared at him. There was no way Lotho and his parents would take Bilbo’s home away from him.

Just when Frodo raised his wand, and Lotho readied himself, a spell was cast their way. Before Frodo had the chance to block the spell, his vision collapsed into a sea of orange. A sweet aroma of vegetable and sweet tart engulfed his nostrils. His neck closed, making it hard to breathe… he felt his head and body. Well, his body was all right, but his head felt very pumpkin… muffled voices were heard. By a counter-jinx, the pumpkin smell went away. His vision returned, as did his head. His hair smelled very much like pumpkin, and was wet. Wait…

The next he knew, Frodo was out in the middle of the Great Hall between him and Lotho. Harry and Draco were in the middle of the crowd as well. But there was something else. A snake conjured by Malfoy. Why did it…

“Stop!” Frodo cried almost at the same time as Harry and Sam. The snake slithered into a stupor. Frodo was shocked, but then so was everyone else at the Great Hall. Frodo just stood there, confused with everything that was happening… until Sam, Merry and Pippin dragged him out of the hall and into an empty classroom. They were followed by Harry, Ron and Hermione, who brought Harry into the classroom as well.

It was here that Ron and Hermione explained to Harry, Frodo and Sam that they were Parselmouths: they could speak to snakes. The conversation turned over a new leaf when Ron explained that the three could speak Parseltongue: the snake language. Frodo was as astonished as Harry and Sam. How could they speak to snakes, when they didn’t know how or just heard Harry and Sam speak English and the Common Tongue. It made no sense. And more so that Hermione mentioned that Frodo, Sam and Harry would be the heirs of Salazar Slytherin, which wouldn’t be easy to prove. In spite of their best interests, being thought of as Slytherin’s heirs did not bode well with Frodo, Sam and Harry.

As for Merry and Pippin, they felt left out for a moment. However, the conversation was interesting. Maybe the authors and authoresses knew more on the subject. Oh wait. That’s right. The Authors and Authoresses’ Chamber was very nearly closed away from hobbits. It mad Merry wonder, as well as Sam and Pippin what they were doing, or what the Heads of the Authors and Authoresses were trying so hard to keep quiet. Frodo nodded in agreement, when the three hobbits explained the situation to them.

“Just try anything to get in there, as best you can.” Frodo sighed, “First, hobbits aren’t allowed to play Quidditch this year, Sam and me could quite possibly be Slytherin’s heirs, and now the authors and authoresses are cut off from us, even though we live in the same dormitory.”

“We’ll find out what’s happening,” Merry said, clamping a hand on Pippin’s shoulder. “Come on, Pippin. We’ve got some investigating to do.”

“Hey,” That got Merry’s attention. Frodo asked him further, “You’re not scared of me, what I am.”

“Well… eh.” Merry waved to him. “I’ll see you later, Frodo.”

“Wait for me,” Pippin said, charging out the door. He waved back to Frodo, “See you later, Frodo. Don’t let it bother you too much.” Then he was gone, leaving Frodo alone with Sam, Harry, Ron and Hermione.

*.*.*

Frodo awoke from a strange dream, which involved him meeting a serpent in an underground chamber. A face appeared on the wall, representing a menacing figure, who grabbed the snake. Frodo finally awoke from the dream with hot sweat beading down his face and chest. It wasn’t a particular friendly dream he had, and yet it made him wonder – with what Ron and Hermione were trying to tell him – if he was truly the heir of Slytherin.

It made no sense how he could speak to that snake in its snake language… but then, it didn’t add up. How was he a descendant of Salazar Slytherin?

-.-.-

The next morning, shortly after he left his first class, Frodo was stopped by Professor McGonagall. Frodo was stunned, but then why was his teacher…

“Follow me, Mr. Baggins. We’ll find Mr. Gamgee and… oh. Mr. Gamgee, come with us, please.” McGonagall said, leading the hobbit boys over to a stone gargoyle. “Lemon drop.”

The stone gargoyle spiraled up, revealing a spiral staircase. Together, McGonagall, Frodo and Sam moved onto one of the stairs. The two hobbit boys followed McGonagall until she left them alone. Frodo had a feeling this was Dumbledore’s office.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I guess this chapter follows _The Chamber of Secrets_ book. Thanks for reading. More is to come. :)


	19. Polyjuice Potion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimers:** All material from The Lord of the Rings trilogy belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien and New Line Cinema. All material from the Harry Potter series belongs to J.K. Rowling and Warner Brothers. All original material belongs to the author of this fanfiction story.
> 
>  **Acknowledgements:** Thanks goes to TooLazyToLogIn for sparking the idea for this series. And thanks also to ValueMyHeart, SweetDarkSilence, DoctorWhovian18 and LOTCR for their support, ideas, permission to be a part of this story, etc.
> 
> Here is the rewritten version of Chapter 19.

The first thing Frodo and Sam smelled, as they entered Dumbledore’s circular office, was peppermint and honey. It didn’t take them long to find on the claw footed desk a bowl filled with sweets and cakes. Looking about the room, they saw portraits of headmasters and headmistresses asleep in their frames. Silver instruments stood on tables. Also on the desk was a battered old hat. Wait… it was the Sorting Hat. As Sam took a few bites out of a cake square, Frodo moved the Sorting Hat from the desk to on top of his head.

The same cunning voice spoke in his ear, “You’re wondering if I put you in the right house.” The whisper continued to speak. “Three houses I said you belong in. Could there be a fourth choice? Yes, I see it now. You would also fit well in Slytherin.”

“No. You’re wrong,” Frodo said, moving the hat off his head and back on the desk.

“Maybe it’s wrong about me, too,” Sam said, between bites.

“I don’t know, Sam. I’m as clueless as you,” Frodo admitted, shrugging his shoulders. His gaze fell on a young fiery red bird, resting on a golden perch. He stared at the bird in awe, but found his feet had brought him closer to the creature. He stopped upon hearing a familiar voice:

“Frodo, Sam,” it was Professor Dumbledore. “Enjoying the sweets, I see.” Frodo was confused. Sam gulped, thoroughly embarrassed. Dumbledore climbed upstairs, joining the two hobbit lads. “Fawkes is a phoenix. Phoenixes can heal the most grievous wounds, carry heavy loads and are reborn from the ashes on A Burning Day.”

“Professor, you don’t think that Sam and I… well…” Frodo didn’t know how to explain the things that have happened.

“No Frodo. I do not think you and Sam are responsible for the double attack today,” Dumbledore said.

“What attacks?” Sam understood. “Mr. Dumbledore, Mr. Frodo and I weren’t there when it happened. We only just learned…” Sam was interrupted by Dumbledore, who raised a hand at them both.

“I know you’re not. But I would suggest caution,” the Headmaster asked them, “And also if there is anything either of you wish to tell me. Anything out of the ordinary.”

So many thoughts creeped up on Frodo: hearing the strange, slithering voice in the air to Aria going incognito about the Chamber of Secrets. What was more nerve-wracking was how Aria was avoiding him, but then the authors and authoresses were very secretive this term, as if they didn’t want him to discover anything that they were up to. Then there were the attacks on Mrs. Norris and, apparently, a double attack that he only just learned. Then the Polyjuice potion being brewed in Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom… he came to one conclusion. But it was this conclusion that made Frodo feel more uncomfortable…

“N –” He was interrupted by Sam.

“Mr. Frodo and I – well –” Sam’s voice faded away. Frodo’s gaze fell on his hobbit friend. It seems they both couldn’t lie to Professor Dumbledore. But to not say anything at all? Well, that wasn’t what they were used to doing.

“Very well.” Dumbledore said. “You two may go.”

“Thank you, sir,” Frodo sighed in relief. At least he and Sam didn’t lie, but then… Frodo grabbed one of the unwrapped cake squares from the bowl. His gaze met Dumbledore’s. He nearly spoke up, but it was clear that he wasn’t about to say anything to Dumbledore… not yet anyway. He ran off towards the door, following Sam outside the Headmaster’s office.

*.*.*

Frodo awoke Christmas morning to the sounds of birds chirping. His eyes widened as he stirred. Just as he sat up, the birds vanished in puffs of blue dust. He checked his hands. Why was his magic getting out of control again? But then he remembered the Chamber of Secrets and the potion. Putting on his uniform, Frodo finished up in the boys’ lavatory in haste. When he left the common room and climbed down the spiral staircase, he stopped in hesitation. There was Sam, waiting for him.

“Sam,” Frodo said.

“Mr. Frodo,” Sam answered. “Hermione wants us to meet her in the Great Hall, to tell us something important.”

“Then let’s not keep her waiting,” Frodo said, following Sam’s lead.

-.-.-

After a fight down the Grand Staircase, Frodo and Sam met up with Hermione, Harry and Ron in the Great Hall. There, the two hobbit boys had their share of holiday treats and desserts. It wasn’t until after they were done eating that the five friends met outside the hall. It was clear to Frodo and Sam whose hair they were ripping out: two hobbit boys in their year named Dawbs and Weevil, who were also sorted into Slytherin in the same year as them and Lotho.

How were they getting the hairs? Well, it was still early and… Frodo smirked. He had an idea, which he whispered to the others, “Well, why don’t Sam and I just bump into Dawbs and Weevil, and take the hairs then?”

“No,” Hermione said. She added further, “The only way this’ll work is if Dawbs and Weevil won’t burst in on us. The same for Crabbe and Goyle. We’re here to interrogate Malfoy and Lotho, not cause a ruckus.”

“It was a brilliant idea,” he admitted.

“Yes, when we’re not trying to make Lotho and Malfoy confess the truth,” Ron added.

“Then what can we do?” Frodo asked, serious.

“This.” Hermione showed them two chocolate cakes. “This is for Crabbe and Goyle. As for Dawbs and Weevil, I have something a little extra…” She pulled out two sparklers. “These will be used to keep Dawbs and Weevil distracted, enough to make them pass out. Now, Frodo will have to pull his usual pranking skills on Dawbs and Weevil, if we want to make this work.”

Frodo stared at the unlit sparkler in his hand. Okay. This was surprising. “You’re asking me to prank Dawbs and Weevil. Hermione, I don’t know if I have it in me to prank on purpose.”

“We have a good reason for using the sparklers, and this is one of these reasons.” Hermione told the four, “I’m going to check on the Polyjuice potion. Come back to me in Myrtle’s bathroom when you have the hairs.”

“We actually have to prank Dawbs and Weevil,” Sam asked Frodo.

“Hiding them in a broom cupboard, too,” Frodo admitted. He looked at Hermione then, “Are you sure this is for the best?”

“Well, what do you want to do? We need to interrogate Lotho and Malfoy,” Hermione told them last, “Just trust me, Frodo. We get to the bottom of this soon enough.”

 _That’s what I’m afraid of_ , Frodo thought to himself. This was going to be enjoyable… or maybe not…

-.-.-

The easy part turned out to get the hairs from Dawbs and Weevil. Dawbs was a dirty blonde haired hobbit with a cautious gaze. He was a bit shorter than Weevil, whose hair was dark and burly, and whose eyes would stare down anyone who came across his path. It just happened that as the two Slytherin hobbit boys wandered down the hallway, they were bumped into by Frodo and Sam.

“Watch it.” Weevil complained, “You’ll get my clothes dirty, Baggins, Gamgee.”

“We’re sorry. But we came to give you a present,” Frodo said, innocent.

“Humph. A likely story,” Dawbs said, snatching the sparkler from Frodo’s hand. “What is this? One of your gifts?”

“Maybe it’s trick,” Weevil announced, taking the sparkler from Sam’s hand.

“Oh, it isn’t a trick. Just a… friendly reminder from a fellow hobbit,” Sam proclaimed, smiling. Frodo smirked at him in approval.

“Well, before we go… why don’t you test out the sparklers first.” Frodo suggested.

“Why not.” Dawbs said, pressing a button on the sparkler.

“Me too.” Weevil said, also pressing the same red button on his sparkler.

In a momentary flash of light, Dawbs and Weevil were knocked unconscious. Frodo was surprised that it worked, the moment he opened his eyes. He turned to Sam, who had been covering his face with his hands. They were very lucky to have closed their eyes, as Hermione said. Now they could get the hairs from Dawbs and Weevil… Shortly after putting the two Slytherin hobbit boys in a nearby broom cupboard, Frodo and Sam ripped out some hairs from each of them. They darted off fast, hoping to find Harry, Ron and Hermione in Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom. And they did, for Harry, Ron and Hermione were close to being ready to head to the Slytherin common room.

“You made it! Did you get the hairs?” Hermione asked, curious.

Frodo showed her Dawb’s hair.

“So, what do we use them for?” Sam asked, looking at the dark hair he pulled from Weevil’s head.

“In a minute. Once we drink the polyjuice potion, we’ll have exactly an hour before the potion wears off. In other words, we’ll change back into ourselves in an hour.” She added, showing them the robes. “I sneaked out spare robes from the laundry. They’re bigger sizes, so we’ll need to change once we’ve changed.” Hermione added, “The potion’s ready. So now we put them in five glasses.” She poured the potion into five glasses, before handing the glasses over to Frodo, Sam, Harry, Ron and herself. She said next, “Add the hairs.”

Hermione poured the hairs into the first glass. It fizzed and turned a sickly yellow color. Harry was next, with Ron following. Goyle’s essence was a khaki kind of booger, while Crabbe’s was a dark, murky brown color. Frodo and Sam poured theirs in last. Dawbs was a milky orange, which smelled of curdled milk and two week old rotten eggs. Weevil’s had a yellowish orange color, smelling of rotten cabbage.

Before they drank down the potion, Harry suggested to them to head into separate stalls and drink them down. Frodo couldn’t have agreed more. The second the stall doors were closed, taking the spare robes with them, the five friends waited until the count of three of drink the potion down. Not liking the smell from his potion, Frodo drank it down in three gulps. Already feeling sick, Frodo doubled over in front of the toilet. As he did, his body burned uncontrollably. His nerves shivered as his body and head swelled. He collapsed on the floor when the burning sensation stopped.

He looked at his hands, which had grown bigger. He felt his hair, which was firmer than his own. The second he heard Harry and Ron – he recognized them more for the mannerisms – Frodo quickly changed out of his uniform and into the Slytherin hobbit uniform. He felt two inches taller, but was surprised to see Sam about three inches taller than him, and looking just like Weevil.

“Sam,” Frodo touched his throat. His voice was raspier now, but that must have been the way Dawbs spoke.

“Mr. Frodo,” Sam said. His voice was a bit huffier sounding.

“The potion works,” Frodo said, peering over at the two wizards, who looked like Crabbe and Goyle. Frodo checked himself in the mirror, but all he could see was Dawbs.

“Dawbs doesn’t use hand magic, Frodo,” Ron replied.

“Go, you four. You’re wasting time,” Hermione called from behind one of the stall doors.

Frodo sighed. Ron did have a point. And yet, time was against them at the moment. Frodo, thinking like Dawbs, charged out of Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom first. He looked back at his friends, who joined him in seconds. They didn’t have a choice except to stick together and hope they reached the Slytherin common room on time. Finding their way to the dungeons, the four friends were stopped by Percy, who interrogated them for a moment until Draco and Lotho came up to them.

“Dawlish and Kettering, where did you come from?” Lotho asked, suspicious. He whispered in Frodo’s ear, “Draco has something that may help both our interests.”

“Lead on,” Frodo said, getting into playing Dawbs for the evening.

“Come on,” Lotho said, gesturing forward. Frodo and Sam followed him, Malfoy, Harry and Ron right into the Slytherin common room.

The Slytherin common room was underground, with greenish lamps lit along the walls. The stone was rough and the ceiling was high. Over by the fireplace, several Slytherin students – hobbits, wizards and witches, and authors and authoresses alike – were gathered in front of it. Malfoy and Lotho regroup with Harry, Ron, Frodo and Sam by the couches, where Malfoy showed them an article about Mr. Weasley and the Ford Anglia.

Lotho was stunned by the silence. “What? Don’t you agree with Draco? This has to be a real treat for you Dawbs – I mean, Dwalish.” Frodo was surprised. Lotho was cowering before him – or Frodo guessed it was Dawbs. “Sorry. I know you don’t like hearing that nickname.” Lotho admitted a moment later, “But then there’s all this uproar about Frodo Baggins, Samwise Gamgee – oh, those Gamgees.” He fumed. Calming down, he explained, “Anyway. Hearing that Baggins and Gamgee are Slytherin’s heirs is another thing we need to concern ourselves with. As if the Baggins’ line already has enough trouble on its hands.”

“Don’t you know who is Slytherin’s heir?” Frodo asked, his voice sounding like Dawbs.

“If I did, would I be asking you?” Lotho recovered, “No, of course I wouldn’t.” He sighed, recovering, “But I would love to know whose responsible for these attacks. If they do come after someone… well, I wouldn’t bother with it. Or maybe I would. Someone’s responsible. Why shouldn’t I help them out?”

Malfoy laughed. “Lotho, the day you help out Slytherin’s heirs, I would be a part of it. But then, I don’t know what they’d do to you.” He told Harry, Ron, Frodo and Sam, “But the last time the Chamber was opened was fifty years ago. A Mudblood died. So this time, I hope it’s Granger.” Malfoy added, before Ron and Sam could retaliate, “Whoever was expelled was sent to Azkaban – the wizard prison. I wonder if they’re still there.”

“And my mother’s worried I’ll turn into an odd sort, like Mad Baggins.” Lotho replied. He admitted in shame. “If only Frodo Baggins was a decent hobbit. But he’s been with the Brandybucks for too long. I think he’s starting to take a niche for their habits. And then there’s the Gamgee family…”

Sam cried, “I’ve got a stomachache, too.”

Lotho shrugged, but then gave a quizzical expression. While he understood a stomachache, he had no idea what was happening to Dawlish and Kettering. Then again, what did he know these days? Dawlish and Kettering… wait. Why was… probably another of Dawlish’s tricks.

Lotho shouted as Frodo and Sam flew out of the Slytherin common room, “Hey! Wait… I would like to…” He was too late. Crabbe, Goyle, Dawlish and Kettering were out of the common room. Lotho shooed the air. Maybe he was seeing things…

-.-.-

Frodo and Sam raced to Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom. They made it just in time, if only a few minutes after Harry and Ron, but just in time to look themselves in the mirror and see they were back to normal. Only by the time Harry put on his glasses and opened the stall door, the four friends found Hermione with a furry face and a tail. Moaning Myrtle was laughing up a storm. After much convincing Harry, Ron, Frodo and Sam took Hermione to the hospital wing, where Madam Pomfrey would change her back into herself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. :) More is to come…


	20. A Maiar's Diary

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimers:** All material from The Lord of the Rings trilogy belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien and New Line Cinema. All material from the Harry Potter series belongs to J.K. Rowling and Warner Brothers. All original material belongs to the author of this fanfiction story.
> 
>  **Acknowledgements:** Thanks goes to TooLazyToLogIn for sparking the idea for this series. Thanks also goes to SweetDarkSilence, ValueMyHeart, DoctorWhovian18 and LOTCR for their support, permission to come into this story, ideas, etc.
> 
> Here is the rewrite for Chapter 20.

Hermione ended up staying in the hospital wing for several weeks. As it happened, Harry, Ron, Frodo and Sam visited her often. When term resumed, students spread rumors about Hermione’s disappearance. But by the time everyone returned to Hogwarts, Merry and Pippin also visited Hermione. Frodo noticed that Aria had about vanished by the time the authors and authoresses returned. He was glad when Anne, SweetDarkSilence, Amy and Abigail showed up. Amy wouldn’t stop talking to Hermione, but by then Frodo understood and left them alone.

“I’m surprised it wasn’t Lotho,” Pippin said, when he and Frodo stepped outside the hospital wing. “We were so close into thinking he was Slytherin’s heir. And he wasn’t.”

“I know.” Frodo accepted it the second he was back in Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom. Lotho spoke the truth. But then who was Slytherin’s heirs, if it wasn’t him or Lotho? He waited for Sam, before they and Pippin wandered around the stairs, for exploration purposes. Even though he wanted to complete his homework – no, he needed a break. At least for now.

Harry and Ron also came out, surprised to see the three hobbit boys together.

“Well, we weren’t expecting guests,” Ron said, jokingly.

“Where’s Merry?” Pippin asked, curious.

“He’s helping Hermione with some defense against the dark arts homework,” Ron informed them.

Frodo started, “Well…”

“ARGH!” It was Filch’s voice, coming from the second floor.

“Let’s go,” Harry said, taking the lead.

“What happened this time around?” Frodo asked, charging up the stairs.

Eventually, and surprised to see that Filch wasn’t guarding the corridor, Frodo followed his friends into Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom. He learned from Myrtle, with thanks from Harry questioning her, that someone threw two items into the toilet, moving through her head. It was then that Frodo discovered two black covered diaries. One of the diaries looked familiar… of course, Otho’s diary. But how… maybe it switched hands for a time. Either way, he and Harry now had two diaries. Only the diary Harry was holding had the name T.M. Riddle scrawled on the first page. Frodo checked his diary, which had the name Mairon on the back cover in gold letters. Now that was curious…

-.-.-

“I told you books are dangerous,” Ron said, as he and Frodo visited Hermione with Harry, Sam and Pippin.

“It looks like a blank diary. Look,” Frodo said, flipping through the diary’s pages.

“Even so, Frodo. I read about a Maiar named Mairon coming to Hogwarts about fifty years ago,” Hermione answered. “I found it in Hogwarts: A History book. Only he went under a different name. He wasn’t afraid to mention his names, as if he knew what would happen.” She added, “There’s also a portrait of Mairon, when he was still good. You can find it in the corridor, next to the trophy room.”

Frodo nodded. But even by saying Mairon’s name, the candles and fireplace flickered. Well, if he was lucky, he wouldn’t have to visit the trophy room. And yet the diary… maybe he would have a better look at some point soon. He observed the diary some more, hoping to find something that would show Mairon had written in it. But like the diary Harry had, he couldn’t find any answers.

Maybe there was invisible ink on the pages of Mairon’s dairy…

When Hermione was better and out of the hospital wing, she, Harry, Ron, Frodo, Sam, Merry and Pippin went to investigate the trophy room. As they did, Harry, Ron and Hermione went in one direction, while the four hobbits stayed to investigate the corridor. And they found Mairon’s portrait. For a long time, the four hobbit lads couldn’t take their eyes off the portrait. It seemed so mesmerizing.

“Well, we better go and help Harry, Ron and Hermione,” Merry told them.

“Yeah,” Pippin said.

“Come on, Pippin,” Merry said. Pippin followed him a moment later, but Sam’s gaze was fixed on Frodo.

“What is it Mr. Frodo?” Sam asked.

“Yeah.” Frodo could help staring at the frame.

Then he found it: the date that meant Mairon had been present at Hogwarts fifty years ago. Maybe they were onto something. At a tug on his sleeve, Frodo moved away from the portrait. When his vision returned to the present state, it almost felt like he had woken up from a trance. He wondered how much harder it was for everyone else who gazed at the portrait. Then again, he wasn’t sure himself how he managed to stop staring at the portrait. It seemed to be watching him as he made his way into the trophy room, where Harry, Ron and Hermione gathered around a trophy given to T.M. Riddle.

It was clear the truth was beginning to unravel right in front of their eyes.

o-o-o

The mood became much cheerier since there were no more attacks. Frodo could only assume the attacks had finally ceased and there would be peace in the air. The authors and authoresses were also allowed to see the hobbits, witches and wizards more frequently. However, when Frodo tried to speak to Aria, she was almost too tight-lipped to say anything about her own activity. He would have to fix this, maybe even add in an adventure.

“Aria, how do you feel about an adventure?” Frodo asked her one day.

“Ohhh!” Aria moaned.

“You don’t want an adventure?” He asked, sadly.

“Nooo,” she replied.

“Then what is it, Aria?” Frodo was very confused.

“Ah. Excuse me, Frodo. Please!” Aria darted down the corridor in a frantic rush. Frodo did his best to keep up with her, but was plummeted to the floor by one of Lockhart’s dwarf cupids. The hobbit boy glanced up in time to see Aria return to him, only to stand behind a suit of armor in embarrassment.

Oh no. Frodo had a bad feeling what this meant.

“I’ve got a message, a poem, to Frodo Baggins,” the dwarf said, beginning his recitation:

 _Compassionate and brave, a stone he has faced,_  
_Trials unending, with pranks and friends abound._  
 _With eyes as blue as the sea, and a gallant retreat,_  
 _No other hobbit could have defeated_  
 _The Dark Lord of old._

Frodo waited until the dwarf moved to pick up the diary. However, when he did this, his gaze met Aria’s. She was out of sorts and Frodo could tell. But he had to ask her: “Did you write that poem?”

Aria nodded silently. Frodo was at a loss for words until their eyes met the diary. When he looked up again, she had vanished. He met her gaze one last time, before she turned the corner. Frodo wanted to follow her, but figured it was better to let her go. Whatever was on her mind… well, it would be revealed soon enough, wouldn’t it? She couldn’t avoid him for too much longer.

*.*.*

Frodo stayed in the Ravenclaw common room until after everyone went to bed. Glad to have the privacy, he took another good look at the diary. It certainly looked ordinary, and yet he felt an invisible tug at him, as if the diary had feelings. Opening his ink bottle, Frodo turned to the first page. He dipped his quill into the ink bottle and let a drop blot the page.

The ink sucked itself into the page, vanishing from view.

 _No way_ , Frodo thought in awe. Dipping the quill again into the ink bottle, he scrawled on the page, “My name is Frodo Baggins.”

The words vanished. Only new words came up in a handwriting not his own.

“ _Hullo Frodo Baggins. My name is Mairon. How did you find this diary?_ ” The words vanished a moment later.

Frodo answered with a written reply, “I found it in a bathroom. Someone tried to flush it.”

“ _You needn’t worry. This diary holds memories most dear to me, memories you have yet to learn._ ” The words vanished and new words appeared. “ _You see I came to life at the time when Hogwarts was most in need of my assistance. I helped the Prefect uncover the Chamber of Secrets and know who is responsible for the attack. I can show you, if you like._ ”

“I’m at Hogwarts now.” Frodo dared to write next, “Show me.”

“ _Very well. I shall take you back fifty years ago, where it all began._ ”

The pages blew on their own, coming to a page that said June thirteenth. Frodo moved the diary up to his face, as he was sucked into the brilliant flash of light. He felt his body was sucked into the diary until he landed just outside Professor Dumbledore’s office.

“No way,” Frodo said, surprised. Before he reached the door, two figures stood before him. One was a fifth year boy, donned in Slytherin robes, and a tall angelic, elven figure, also wearing a Slytherin uniform. The elven figure, given his appearance, must have been in the same year as the teenage boy.

“Come in,” an elderly figure spoke from somewhere in the other room.

Frodo waved his hand at the two figures. Neither of them saw him. He tried again, speaking to them. “Hullo. Hullo!” Nothing he did helped. Then he remembered: he was in the diary. He would be a wight to them. It was the only conclusion that made sense in this situation.

Quickly and quietly, Frodo followed the two into Dumbledore’s office. Only when they entered the room, Frodo was stunned to see Harry present in the same room as he. Upon approaching Harry, Frodo did his best to speak to him. “Harry, you’re here too.” Harry didn’t respond, his attention fixed on the Slytherin boys. “It’s me. Frodo Baggins. Harry?” Frodo waved his hand in front of Harry. He couldn’t see him, and yet he looked like a ghost.

What did this mean?

As Frodo listened to Professor Dippet – who Frodo just learned from listening to the professor’s conversation with Tom Marvolo Riddle – the hobbit lad turned his gaze to Mairon. Mairon was unusually silent, but then Frodo did feel a strange sensation of unwelcome emotions. The elven figure certainly left a trace of himself with the office.

Eventually, Riddle was set to leave the room. Frodo nearly followed Harry, but was stopped when Dippet spoke to Mairon:

“Was it really your intentions to come here tonight, Mairon?” Dippet added, “If you find out who the killer is, tell me.”

“I will.” Mairon nodded, “Good night, sir.” He took off out of the office. Frodo followed at a gallant speed. At last, he and Mairon were down in the dungeons with Riddle and Harry, if only a moment too soon, for there was Hagrid, watching over a box. They were in the dungeons where Snape taught potions class to him and Harry. “Hullo Hagrid.” Mairon certainly had a presence about him. Frodo was stunned. It couldn’t be Hagrid.

Before too long, the spider inside the box was set loose. Frodo watched as Mairon and Riddle stood up against Hagrid. Before Frodo could do anything, he was pulled out of the dungeons, right back into the burst of light until he landed spread eagle on his bed.

The memory was now gone. Frodo was back in the boys’ dormitory of Ravenclaw Tower. He moved Mairon’s diary off of his stomach, just in time to see Folco enter the room.

“Frodo, are you all right?” Folco asked him, “You’re looking at Mairon’s diary. Merry and Pippin told me what happened and how you found the diary.”

“Folco, it was Hagrid.” Frodo repeated, clearer now, “It was Hagrid who opened the Chamber fifty years ago. I… I can’t explain it. The diary showed me…”

“Tell Harry and Ron about it tomorrow.” Folco moved to his bed. He admitted with care, “We’ll figure this out tomorrow, Frodo. I know we will.”

“I know we will.” Frodo grinned to himself. Yes, they would. He hoped they would. And yet, his grin faded over what he saw. He couldn’t believe Hagrid would do such a thing as open the Chamber of Secrets. There had to be more proof than this. He felt sure of it. But how? How would they prove this to be true or false? Hagrid was innocent, wasn’t it? This memory Mairon showed him… he concluded on waiting until the next morning to figure this out, what he saw… everything.

Eventually, Frodo did get to sleep. But his mind was uneasy. Just who was Slytherin’s heir? Why wasn’t he getting enough information? These were questions that troubled him throughout the night. There was no way of knowing what would happen until he told Harry, Ron, Hermione and Sam the truth. And he would tell them. He just hoped they would understand where he was coming from with this new information…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I’m caught up on rewrites. Thanks for reading. :) We’ll see what happens next in the next chapter…


	21. Three Attacks in One Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimers:** All material from The Lord of the Rings trilogy belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien and New Line Cinema. All material, including passages here and there, from the Harry Potter series belongs to J.K. Rowling and Warner Brothers. All original material belongs to the author of this fanfiction story.
> 
>  **Acknowledgements:** Thanks goes to TooLazyToLogIn for bringing up the idea that sparked this series. Thanks also goes to my friends ValueMyHeart, SweetDarkSilence, DoctorWhovian18 and LOTCR for their ideas, permission to enter the story, ideas, etc.

Frodo met with Harry, Ron and Hermione the very next morning. Mairon’s diary and Riddle’s diary were very suspicious, but then they did show Frodo and Harry that it was Hagrid who set the monster loose on the castle, killing the girl in the bathroom. Still, it was very alarming…

“Wait. You mean you were in Riddle’s diary, too.” Harry was confused.

“I’m telling you, that’s what I saw. I was in Mairon’s diary and you were there, Harry. Only, you were a phantom in Mairon’s memory, of his time at Hogwarts,” Frodo admitted, keeping quiet about the part of how he got the diary to work. At least not right away.

“But Mr. Frodo, it doesn’t make sense.” Sam asked, “How could Hagrid send a monster to attack Muggle born students?” That was the question of the day.

“But still, questioning if Hagrid is the heir of Slytherin…” Hermione was cut off by Ron, who had something to say.

“Whatever the case, how can we prove Hagrid’s responsible?” It was a good question that Ron had, one that wasn’t easy to answer.

They concluded that they wouldn’t say anything to Hagrid until there was another attack.

*.*.*

The Golden Trio, Frodo and Sam, as well as their classmates enjoyed the attack free zone, which circumnavigated throughout the school. Also, the mandrakes were nearing the time when they could be chopped off, stewed and ministered to those that were petrified. Merry and Pippin, within this time, spent their time hanging around the Greenhouses, in hopes of stirring up trouble. That is, until they investigated the Mandrakes. Unfortunately, their paths crossed with Professor Sprout.

“Just what do you think you boys are up to?” Professor Sprout asked them.

“We… um...” Merry was at a loss for words.

“We just came to admire the Mandrakes,” Pippin stepped in.

“Well, go on now. Get to class!” Sprout shooed them away.

Merry sighed in relief when they were away from the Greenhouses, “That was too close, Pippin.”

“I wonder what Professor Sprout does with those Mandrakes,” Pippin added.

“To heal those who have been petrified.” It was Frodo, leaning up against a wall. He smirked. “I figured you two were wandering the castle at this time.” He scratched his nose a little, before pointing to the entrance to the Greenhouses. “At least, that’s what the school will be doing with them.”

“Sounds hard.” Merry admitted, “Good thing Pippin and me will be around to see those sick and injured well again.”

“Me too,” Frodo said, nodding in agreement. It was good to be them, but maybe it was better that certain things they stayed out of. Then again, maybe not. He smirked. If only that were the case…

o-o-o

As the Easter holidays drew nearer, it was time for the second year students – hobbits, authors and authoresses included – to choose their subjects for their third year at Hogwarts. Hermione was keen on taking no one’s advice, deciding that she would take everything on the list. Harry chose the same elective classes that Ron took.

Merry and Pippin chose mainly the same classes, as did Fatty and Folco. Frodo and Sam were different. They chose what classes they felt they would do best at, but there were some classes they ended up picking the same ones. It wasn’t any different for their authoress friends. While Anne and SweetDarkSilence worked on choosing which classes were the right fit – Amy and Abigail did the same in their own way – Aria was having a tough time picking classes meant for her. She sat by herself through the majority of the picking classes, until…

“Hey Aria,” Frodo said, taking a seat next to her.

“Hey Frodo.” Aria was somber. She looked up at him, tired. “How are you?”

“I’m good.” Frodo looked at the sheet, admitting to her, “Isn’t Divination at the same time as Ancient Runes?” Aria moved the sheet away from him. Frodo was stunned. He told her, frank, “Aria, don’t be like that. We’re getting older, more mature.” He asked her, curious, “Isn’t that what’s important?”

“I’m finished with my sheet anyway,” Aria stood up. However, Frodo took her class sheet from her hands.

“Aria, are you trying to be like Hermione?” Frodo asked, only to find Aria had taken the sheet away from him. He asked her, concerned, “Aria, we’ve been going at it for months. If there’s something on your mind…” he followed her. Just as soon as Aria handed in her sheet, he asked her bluntly, “What’s wrong?”

Aria was near to tears, “I’m sorry. I can’t tell you… I...” Before she reached the entrance hall, she was pulled back into the Great Hall by Frodo. “Frodo, let go.”

“Not until you…” Frodo paused. He said, calmer, “Look, Aria. I know something’s on your mind. Why won’t you tell me?”

“Because I can’t. I’ve been told not to say anything,” she said.

“Told by who? The authors? Aria, you can tell me. I’ll listen,” he said to her.

“I can’t. I wish I could, but… there’s just been…” She pulled away from him, darting out into the entrance hall. Just as she found a place by herself, she looked up at the Headmistress of the Authoresses.

“Talk to me, child. What is it? What’s wrong?” the Head of Authoresses asked.

“Can’t I tell him? He’ll know soon enough,” Aria asked, referring to Frodo.

“No. You’re not ready and neither is he.” The Head of Authoresses gave a warning. “But things are changing, not just for the hobbits, authors and authoresses, but everyone. We’re all being affected in some way by time, and time is coming fast. Fair warning for next year.” She stood up and walked away from Aria.

Great. So it seemed the only answer Aria received was ‘no’. Now what was she to do? And Frodo was right there… no, it was better he found out on his own. Turning the corner, Aria darted up the stairs to the Grand Staircase, disappearing from Frodo’s sight.

Frodo returned to the Great Hall in a flustered mood. Not only had he’d been willing to assist Aria, he still felt as though she was avoiding him. And yet, he had the strangest feeling that he had been in this situation before. Of course, during his first year, when he was avoiding Aria… only that was for a different reason. As for now… well, he could only guess what she was keeping from him.

Maybe it had something to do with the Chamber of Secrets. Maybe he wouldn’t know until the answer came to him. Well, anyway… he returned to his previous routine of choosing which classes to take for his third year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

o-o-o

The weather soon turned sunny and bright. Frodo walked with his friends throughout the castle grounds, courtyards and corridors. He liked being out in the sunshine. It gave him something else to think about when…

“Frodo – something happened –” It was Folco, out of breath and confused.

In spite of nearly leaving Sam behind, Frodo watched him accompany him up the stairs. Sam halted when they reached the bronze eagle knocker, telling Frodo and Folco, “I think maybe you two should investigate. I’ll…” It was all right with Frodo. He didn’t want to push Sam any further into breaking the rules.

“It’s all right, Sam. Folco and I’ll investigate, and then tell you as soon as we’re done,” Frodo said.

Sam nodded furiously. Convinced that Sam would be all right, Frodo charged into the Ravenclaw common room and up the stairs. By the time Folco caught up to him, they found Frodo’s bed upturned, several books scattered across the floor – many of his books came from his trunk, sheets all over the past, the frame of his bed tore up. As Frodo checked his belongings, one book was missing. He knew which book it was…

“Mairon’s diary is missing,” Frodo told Sam, Harry, Ron and Hermione as they walked down the corridor.

“So is Riddle’s diary,” Harry mentioned. “And on the same day. It could be a coincidence.”

“Well, so far, there haven’t been attacks on hobbits, authors and authoresses,” Hermione admitted. “Maybe the other heir of Slytherin hasn’t shown themselves yet.”

“That’s what I fear,” Frodo and Sam said in unison.

“Well, if these diaries have gone missing, does that mean the attackers will return,” Sam asked.

“That’s a good question, Sam. But still,” Frodo went on to explain, “It’s best to keep our eyes open for anything.”

“Agreed,” Harry, Ron and Hermione said at the same time.

“But still, it had to be a Gryffindor and Ravenclaw who took those diaries. It’s the only thing that makes sense,” Hermione said.

“But still, we don’t know who it is or what they want with the diaries,” Frodo said, before Sam peeled off to join the Hufflepuffs in their common room. Frodo did the same with Harry, Ron and Hermione, telling them, “I’ll see you at the match tomorrow.”

Afterwards, Frodo regrouped with the rest of the Ravenclaw House for, what he hoped, would be a pleasant evening.

*.*.*

The Quidditch match between Gryffindor and Hufflepuff was about to start. Even though Frodo wasn’t able to participate in Quidditch matches, he accompanied Harry, Ron, Hermione and Sam on the Grand Staircase. It was good that Frodo at least could count on them. As for Aria… well, Frodo would…

_“Kill this time… let me rip… tear…”_

Frodo stopped on the staircase. Had he heard the voice again? He did. And there went Hermione in one direction, Harry in another. Frodo was left alone with Sam and Ron.

“Come on, Frodo, Sam. We don’t want to be late for the match,” Ron told them, flying down the stairs.

Frodo met Sam’s gaze for a brief moment, but it was a look of exhaustion. Seeing no other way out, Frodo followed Sam and Ron through the corridors and out onto the castle grounds. They had just arrived at the Quidditch stadium when Professor McGonagall announced by megaphone that the match between Gryffindor and Hufflepuff was cancelled.

“Cancelled? How could the match be cancelled?” Sam asked, flustered.

Unfortunately, his questions were answered when he followed Frodo, Harry and Ron inside the castle. When they followed McGonagall into the hospital wing, they saw who else had been attacked: a Ravenclaw girl, Hermione and a hobbit lass named Myrtle Burrows. It was a triple attack, but it was also personal. Frodo hadn’t thought of the heirs of Slytherin attack hobbits before.

Afterwards, the Houses were brought back to their separate common rooms, where the Heads of Houses announced the new itinerary. Frodo listened keenly, but was surprised by the rules. They weren’t allowed to leave their dorms and common rooms after six. Well, he would see to it that he, Harry, Ron and maybe Sam, if he convinced him, would find out what happened with Hagrid.

Folco whispered to Frodo, as he prepared to set out, “Good luck.”

“I’ll be back,” Frodo said, dressed in his velvet attire, before waving his hand. He was invisible once more. If only his hand magic wasn’t so chaotic.

Of course, that didn’t add up to all the staff wandering in the corridors around this time. He was stunned to see Sam about ready to leave the castle. Frodo couldn’t believe it. Sam was invisible, too? Before he became too excited, Frodo chased after Sam until they were outside the castle.

It was a clear, starry night out. Perfect to roam around, or likely to get captured. Frodo gestured to Sam, “Come on. We need to find Harry and Ron.” But they were too late to step inside Hagrid’s hut. However, Harry and Ron made it inside. As Frodo backed up, hoping Dumbledore or the man accompanying them -who Frodo managed to overhear from Ron was Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic.

 _Wow,_ Frodo thought, _I must have good hearing_.

Frodo’s gaze turned to the two new men. One of them was a hobbit named Otho Sackville Baggins, while the man in the foreground was Lucius Malfoy. Frodo was a gasp, but in shrew annoyance. Otho was the one who started his venture. One day soon, he would get his comeuppance.

“What’re you doin’ here?” Hagrid asked, astonished and frustrated. “Get outta my house!”

“As the Shire’s school governor, I have every right to be here.” Otho added with a smirk on his face. “I was elected before the last school year was up. Haven’t you heard?” He went on, speaking fluidly, “But I am here on common business with Lucius Malfoy, over Professor Dumbledore.”

“No wonder Lotho’s been so cheerful,” Frodo whispered low to Sam.

Frodo waited with Sam until Dumbledore left the hut. At the same time, the two hobbit boys overheard Hagrid say something about “follow the _spiders_ ”. It must have been code for something… no, Frodo thought, it’s literal. Or was it? Well, he didn’t know which. The moment Hagrid had left the hut, Frodo waited a good minute before heading inside. By then, once they were alone with Ron and Harry, their cloaking spell wore off in zaps.

“Blast!” Frodo cried, softly. “My hand magic’s not working again. If anything, its exhausted.” Frodo opened the palm of his hand, only to find a fireball spurred up from it. He blew it out without a synch.

“Maybe it’s because we’re gettin’ older.” Sam admitted, shaking his left hand several times. “Let me tell you, Mr. Frodo. Mr. Merry and Mr. Pippin didn’t say hand magic would be tricky or painful.”

“Left that part out, did they?” Frodo smirked.

“It’s not funny, Mr. Frodo,” Sam said, sitting in one of Hagrid’s chair.

Frodo sighed. Like Aria, Frodo would have to get Sam out of his shell more often. Only this year wasn’t one of his best opportunities to do so. Aria had been avoiding him, not by her own making. As for Sam… well, Frodo would see what would come up.

“One thing is clear. Without Dumbledore, they’ll be an attack a day,” Ron said. His words were ominous, added with Fang howling and scratching the closed door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter blended _The Chamber of Secrets_ book and movie adaptation together well, I think. Also, inspiration for Frodo’s hand magic exhausting itself came from the Hallmark mini-series “The 10th Kingdom”. Thanks for reading. :) We’re getting closer to the end of the story. :)


	22. An Encounter with Spiders

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimers:** All material from _The Lord of the Rings_ trilogy belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien and New Line Cinema. All material and passages from the _Harry Potter_ series belongs to J.K. Rowling and Warner Brothers. All original material belongs to the author of this fanfiction story.
> 
>  **Acknowledgements:** Thanks goes to TooLazyToLogIn for sparking the idea that started this series. To SweetDarkSilence, ValueMyHeart, DoctorWhovian18 and LOTCR for their participation, ideas, support, etc.

Summer swept across the castle and into the grounds like wildfire. A different kind of wildfire spread throughout the school, but it was one of dread. With Dumbledore out of the castle, students and staff were warier and fearful that the attacker would return. And without Hagrid, the grounds felt chilled, even with the periwinkles and other summer flowers spread on the grounds.

Harry, Ron, Frodo and Sam were barred from the hospital wing. Madam Pomfrey forbid students from entering the hospital wing, since she feared the attacker might return and finish off her patients. Frodo pitied the Burrows brothers, who did their best to visit their sister. Minto, the youngest of the Burrows siblings, was distraught.

“Myrtle’ll be all right, won’t she?” Minto asked one day. He sobbed uncontrollably until Frodo approached and sat down with him. He gave Minto some advice:

“Your sister will get better.” He added, getting Minto’s attention, “Hey, whenever you see the periwinkles in bloom, think of your sister. She’ll be back soon.” Frodo moved away from Minto as his brothers came to collect him. Minto was in his first year, while his brothers – Mosco and Moro – were in their second year at Hogwarts.

As if there wasn’t trouble enough, Frodo noticed around the same time as Harry, about two weeks after Dumbledore and Hagrid left, that Draco Malfoy and Lotho were strutting about the school as if they owned the place. They were being especially canny towards Professor Snape, who – to Frodo’s surprise – believed that Dumbledore would return to the castle as quick as he could. But only Frodo, Harry, Ron and Sam knew, from a sneaky experience, that Draco and Lotho weren’t the heirs of Slytherin.

As they followed the students to class, Harry passed to Frodo a note. Frodo opened the note to discover a message, which he read quickly before it turned to dust – something Frodo assumed was either Sam, Merry or Pippin’s hand magic: _Meet me at Hagrid’s hut tonight._ Frodo grinned back at Harry. So they were going to find out what Hagrid meant by “follow the _spiders_ ” then.

Frodo peered down at the floor, to see medium sized spiders scuttling to the windows. They were heading into the Forbidden Forest. Frodo grunted. So, that’s where they were heading, and the note… now he understood. He nodded as the note burned up in his hands. It didn’t actually burn his hands, but it did turn to dust. _All right_ , Frodo thought. He would do it. He would meet Harry, Ron and their hobbit friends to Hagrid’s hut.

-.-.-

The Ravenclaw common room was very crowded lately, due to the fact that no one could go anywhere and for the latest rules put up. Frodo would have found himself bored, but Luna had spun a few tales on the creatures she had known and could find in the Quibbler. That is, until she went to sleep. However, Aria grasped his hand, but she had her own secrets she wasn’t telling him. Frodo noticed her hand and looked into her eyes. It was hard for him these days not to notice her.

His hand magic sparked again. Could he not get it to calm down? Or did Aria have something to – the sparking stopped. He looked at her again, as she spoke.

“Frodo?” Aria asked, confused.

“My hand magic,” Frodo said, “it’s getting out of control.”

“Oh,” she said, looking down at their hands.

“But if there is something you’d like to tell me,” he asked, softly.

“What? That authors have magical abilities.” She smirked. “Frodo, if I have magic in me, I’d know it.”

“Well, what if? Hobbits have magic and are also muggle born.” He shrugged. “Who says the same can’t be said for authors and authoresses?” He received no response, only giggles from Aria. He asked further, “Well, why not?”

“Frodo, there are things about authors and authoresses I can’t tell you,” she said. “It’d be too dangerous. It’s one thing to have hobbits, authors and authoresses in the same timeline as Harry’s story, but we can’t tell him what’s about to happen in Harry’s life. And there are things about your past and your future that I cannot tell you. We wouldn’t want to risk the timelines changing.”

“They already are changing.” He asked, as she stood up, “Aria, is there any way, is there any chance for me finding out anything? In other words, the possibility of you and me dating, courting and the like. Will we be allowed to do that?”

At this, Aria perked up. She admitted, for the first time, “Frodo, if we’re to end up together, then there is one thing you must do. You must prove your loyalty to the authors and authoresses. If you do this and succeed…” she paused, but only briefly, “…then we may very well end up together, with the authors and authoresses’ permission.”

Frodo smiled. It was the first ounce of truth he managed to get from her. “But how can I do that?” he asked.

“When the time is ripe,” she smiled back at him, “you’ll know.” She said, ending their conversation, “I’m going to bed. Goodnight Frodo.” She waved to him, as she charged towards the door to the girls’ dormitory.

“Goodnight, Aria,” he said, his voice almost distant from him.

In spite of learning a deed he could do, Aria was still secretive. Frodo would find a way to regain his friendship with her. But for now, on this night, he had a mission to do with Harry and Ron. And that mission required making sure Hogwarts would stay open and the culprit would be caught.

Frodo waited until close to midnight before he attempted his hand magic. The cloaking spell worked almost instantly. Good. He felt more in control of it. The spelled worked almost too well, for he walked past the door with the eagle knocker with ease. The eagle knocker snored and stayed that way as Frodo wandered down the stairs.

He dodged teachers left and right, doing his best to keep the cloaking spell surrounding him as much as possible. The effect worked out well, except for the part where the teachers nearly heard his scuffling feet across the stone and wood floors. By those times, he had to move to a safe hiding spot away from prying eyes and ears. When he did finally reach the entrance hall, Frodo met up with Harry, Ron and Sam. He smiled. So Sam was using the cloaking spell as well.

It was new to him still that he was able to see Sam through his own cloaking spell. Must be a new trick that he, Frodo, just learned, or maybe his hand magic was getting stronger… then again, it was better for him to head outside. And Frodo did just that, deciding to wait until they were inside Hagrid’s hut before appearing out of the cloaking spell. Sam did the same, jumping at the sight of him.

“Oh! Mr. Frodo, you’re here,” Sam said in shock.

“As are you,” said Frodo, smiling.

“Last time, it was Aria,” Ron said, astonished. “This time, we’re accompanied by Samwise Gamgee. Is this going to be a habit of yours, Frodo, to invite a different friend on each adventure.”

“Last time, Ron, you didn’t come with us to the Forbidden Forest,” Frodo pointed out, “and neither did Sam. My guess is we’re making up for lost time.”

“Let’s get going.” Harry said, dropping the Invisibility Cloak on Hagrid’s table. He told Hagrid’s dog, “Come on, Fang.” He added to Frodo and Sam, “The Cloaking Spells won’t be necessary, not out the in the Forbidden Forest.”

“Right. That’s good to know,” Sam said, nodding silently.

“Harry, will there be any magic that we can do? _Hand magic?_ ” Frodo emphasized the words ‘hand magic’.

“Well, if you won’t use wands, then…” Harry pulled out his wand, “… _lumos!_ ” Harry said, as a ball of bright light appeared at the end of his wand. Ron did the same. At that, Harry turned to Frodo and Sam, “Well?”

“Right,” Frodo and Sam said in unison.

With a wave of his hand, the same blue ball of light appeared in Frodo’s hand. He flicked it a yard or so ahead of him, not enough to scare the spiders, but to also show smaller balls of light. These blue balls of light reflected the general path the spiders took through the woods, and only one direct path was revealed.

“Locator spell,” Frodo smiled, admitting truthfully to his friends.

“Oh,” Sam looked up. “That’s new. I’m still adjusting to hand magic, Mr. Frodo.”

“Let’s go. Frodo’s found the path,” Harry said, leading on.

“And the spiders,” Ron added.

“They’re heading in this direction,” Frodo told them.

“We know,” Harry and Ron said at the same time.

Silence fell between the four friends. Frodo continued throwing the locator spell into the air, at every point where it stopped and the spiders scuttled about the wood. But it wasn’t the locator spell or the silence that was driving them forward: it was the spiders they were listening to. They stayed that way, as the trees became thicker and the roots spread out, until a loud rustle was heard close to them.

The noise grew louder, turning into a rumble. Then silence fell again.

To Harry, Ron, Frodo and Sam’s surprise, a blare of lights turned on. The lights were brighter than the locator spell. And yet, when Frodo looked, the locator spell was still present. His hand magic must indeed be getting stronger and staying on longer.

“Harry. Harry, it’s our car!” Ron called out. “The forest must have turned it wild…”

“Come on. We don’t want to lose the trail,” Harry said.

“The locator spell. It’s stopped,” Frodo said, stunned, “here.”

“What? Ron!” Harry asked.

But Ron was too stunned, staring upwards. Frodo looked up in Ron’s direction. Ten feet above their heads were gigantic spiders. The clicking sounds they made surrounded them. Sam did his best to fight them off, until he collapsed on his back. Frodo fell, too, landing sprawled out and fighting to get the spider pinning his legs together off of him.

Frodo struggled for a time. He wouldn’t give up, not even after the spider’s spindly legs released him. He was moving with Harry, Ron, Sam and Fang through the forest, right into a spidery lair, a hollow cleared of trees enough to see the moonlight shimmering inside, where he was thrown on all fours on the soil. His friends and Hagrid’s dog joined him, in the same situation. Fang, instead of growling, was cowering at the sight of the spiders. Frodo looked up at the enormous spider that lay before them.

Frodo listened to Harry’s conversation with the spider intent, but also warily. It turned out the spider was named Aragog and he was Hagrid’s pet. For a few brief moments of peace, when Harry declared they were friends of Hagrid’s, Aragog admitted he was not born in the castle, that the girl who was discovered had died in a bathroom, and that spiders feared the monster that lived in the castle. In those few precious moments, they got the information they needed.

However, it did not stop the spiders from attempting to attack them. Fortunately, Ron’s father’s car, a blue Ford Anglia, arrived in the nick of time. Frodo and Sam leapt inside the backseat of the car with Fang. Harry and Ron moved to the front seats, driving the car through the Forbidden Forest and flying straight back to Hagrid’s hut. They got out, with Fang running up the stairs to Hagrid’s hut. As for the car, it sped back into the forest.

The four friends returned inside Hagrid’s hut, so Harry could grab the Invisibility Cloak. Frodo honestly did not know who was angrier: Ron or Sam. But at least they got the information they needed.

“What have we found out?” Ron asked Harry and Frodo.

“That Hagrid never opened the Chamber of Secrets,” Harry said, throwing the cloak over him and Ron. “He was innocent.”

“Ready Sam?” Frodo asked, readying his hands.

“I’m ready, but don’t send me back to the spiders. Please Mr. Frodo,” Sam said, still fuming.

“Not tonight, Sam,” he answered, waving his hands. Frodo was pleased: the cloaking spell worked instantly. He looked back at Sam, seeing that he was cloaked, too, which he was from the blue aura surrounding his hobbit friend.

It was time to head back to the castle.

-.-.-

The minute the four friends split up, to head to their separate Houses, Frodo thought over what they had experienced so far this year: they learned Hagrid was innocent, Draco Malfoy and Lotho weren’t the heirs of Slytherin, a girl died in a bathroom fifty years ago, Riddle and Mairon’s diaries… well, there were clues in there somewhere. He thought it over… the girl who died in the bathroom… the girl who…

Oh no. Not Moaning Myrtle.

Frodo thought it over. Of course, it made sense. The more he thought about it, as he changed into his night clothes, the more it made sense. He thought about Myrtle as he slept, curious over what she knew about the Chamber of Secrets… if she knew anything at all…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter ending in an ellipsis. But then again, Frodo could have fallen asleep by that point, too. Thanks for reading. :) We’re coming closer to the end of the story… I know it. :)


	23. Into The Chamber

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimers:** All material from The Lord of the Rings trilogy belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien and New Line Cinema. All material and passages from the Harry Potter series belongs to J.K. Rowling and Warner Brothers. All original material belongs to the author of this fanfiction story.
> 
>  **Acknowledgements:** Thanks goes to TooLazyToLogIn for sparking the idea that started this story. Also thanks goes to my friends ValueMyHeart, SweetDarkSilence, DoctorWhovian18 and LOTCR for their ideas, support, participation in this story, etc.
> 
> For those wondering about the chapter title, it is meant to be literal, for the Chamber of Secrets. It’s just my interpretation of the same chapter title.

Frodo managed to find a way to speak to Harry, Ron and Sam about Moaning Myrtle. If there was a way to get her to talk to them about the Chamber of Secrets, they would surely find a way to reach her.

“I’m telling you –” Frodo knew Harry already agreed with him. But could Sam?

“No, I believe you, Mr. Frodo,” Sam said. Frodo sighed in relief.

“Good. I’m glad we’re in agreement,” he said, cheerful.

Classes resumed and so did the date of their final exams. Another piece of good news was made known that the Mandrakes would soon be ministered to those who were petrified. It seemed the culprit had given up, but then Ginny and Aria were in a complete disarray. Frodo knew something was wrong with Aria that same morning at breakfast, when the news was spoken, but when he looked at the Gryffindor table, Ginny was in nearly the same state.

“Aria, are you all right?” Frodo asked.

Aria opened her mouth, but no words came out.

Frodo tried again. “Aria, do you know about the Chamber of Secrets?”

Aria whimpered, doing her best to spit out what she wanted. Again, no words were spoken from her mouth.

“Aria, get out what you’re trying to say!” Frodo gestured, desperate now to get her to talk.

“Frodo, she’s in shock,” Folco said, jokingly.

“Folco, you’re not helping,” he told him.

“Well, anything’s better than having Aria lollygag in this manner,” he answered.

Frodo grunted. “So what would you have us do then?”

A silence fell between them.

“Well, well…” Folco asked him, “What should we do?”

“I don’t know.” Frodo returned his gaze to Aria. “Aria, what is it? Please tell me.”

Aria closed her eyes. She was in tears, trying to get words out of her mouth, but there was no response.

“You were fine a week ago.” Frodo knew he wasn’t helping matters, but he had to try.

Aria, while gasping for air, silently pointed to Folco.

“What is it?” Frodo asked, curious. “Is it something to do with Folco?”

“Um…” Folco blushed red in embarrassment and frustration. Frodo caught his gaze.

“Folco, what did you do?” Frodo asked him.

“It turns out I’ve got some studying to do.” Folco stood up and rushed over to the Gryffindor table, right next to Fatty Bolger. Frodo rolled his eyes, snickering to himself. Poor Folco. Well, whatever was on his mind… Frodo returned his gaze to Aria. She was rocking back and forth in her chair.

Frodo sighed. If only there was something he could do to help his authoress.

-.-.-

In spite of Frodo’s best efforts to help Aria, he knew that maybe she would get the help she needed and the whole matter resolved. By midmorning, however, on his way to History of Magic with the other Ravenclaws, he was fortunate to have Sindri leading them. Sindri, by now, looked like a complete and frightened mess.

“Professor Sindri –” Frodo was cut off by the auburn haired dwarf, who had a story or two to tell:

“Just to think of what might happen had we lost you to all of this, Mr. Baggins.” Sindri went on, in a tired voice, “To think, you of all people should be protected. Protected from the authors and authoresses, protected as a hobbit, protected as a hero amongst your kind –”

Frodo snuck away while Sindri spoke. He was grateful to use his hand magic, at least he could sneak to Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom – oh no! There was Professor McGonagall, leading Harry, Ron and – wait. Sam was with them, too! What was he doing sneaking about the castle? Unfortunately, Frodo’s hand magic short-circuited, just long enough for him to stay behind a wall and allow McGonagall to see him.

“Mr. Baggins, what are you –”

“He’s with us!” Harry inquired.

“Yes, and I want to visit Hermione,” Frodo sagged his head.

McGonagall addressed him. “Well, in this case, you may go. I’ll tell Professor Binns and Flitwick where you four have gone. Tell Madam Pomfrey you have my permission.” She disappeared around a corner.

“Well, now we have to see Hermione,” Harry told his friends.

“Thanks for bailing me out.” Frodo looked at his hands. “My hand magic – I can’t see to control it this year.”

“I don’t think you need to stay invisible now, Frodo,” Harry answered.

Frodo grunted. “I suppose you’re right.”

“Come on. We should be off,” Harry told his three friends.

As it turned out, Madam Pomfrey let them in, but reluctantly. Frodo approached Hermione’s petrified state with his three friends. At first, it seemed like they weren’t getting anything until Harry yanked out a piece of clumped up parchment, revealing everything they were searching for.

Harry breathed the truth to them, “The monster in the Chamber of Secrets is a basilisk. It explains why Frodo, Sam, Aria and me can hear it speak… no one looked it directly in the eye due to seeing its reflection, including Mrs. Norris.”

“How’s the basilisk been getting around?” Ron asked.

“Pipes, Ron. It’s been using the pluming. We’ve been hearing the basilisk’s voice inside the walls,” Harry added, referring to himself, Frodo, Sam and Aria.

Ron grabbed Harry’s arm. “What if the Chamber of Secrets inside a bathroom! In –”

“ _In Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom!_ ” Harry said.

Coming to the conclusion that the Heirs of Slytherin must also be using Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom to open the Chamber of Secrets, Harry, Ron, Frodo and Sam charged downstairs. Just as they went inside the staff room – a large, paneled room full of dark wooden chairs – to get McGonagall, her voice, magically magnified, told all the students to head to their House dormitories and all teachers to head to the staff room immediately. At that, Harry, Ron, Frodo and Sam hid inside a wardrobe as the staff arrived on the scene.

“The Heirs of Slytherin left another message, right underneath the first,” McGonagall told the teachers assembled. “‘ _Their Skeletons will lie in the Chamber forever._ ’ That’s all they say.”

“Who was taken?” Madam Hooch asked.

“Ginny Weasley and Aria Breuer,” McGonagall said.

Frodo froze on the spot. Could it… no. That couldn’t have been what Aria was trying to warn him all year? It made no sense. He felt Ron slide down to the wardrobe floor a few inches away from him. Just then, another bang of the staff room door sounded, but it wasn’t Dumbledore. It was Lockhart and Sindri.

“I’m sorry. Are we late?” Sindri asked.

“It seems we have need of your assistance after all, Sindri.” Snape told him, “Don’t you know where the Chamber of Secrets is?”

Frodo looked up. Maybe Sindri did know where the Chamber was hidden. There was no denying it now. Frodo had to go in and save his authoress… with Sindri’s help. But how?

“That’s settled. We’ll leave you and Sindri to it, Lockhart,” McGonagall informed the two professors. “Tonight would be an excellent time for it.”

“Oh, yes. I shall head to my office,” Sindri said, heading out the door.

The teachers rose and left the office.

-.-.-

The Ravenclaw common room was very still, if not respectful. Frodo hardly found the words to say to his fellow Ravenclaws. But then, over the past year, he and Aria hadn’t been very close. Then why was he so bothered? Maybe Aria knew about the Chamber of Secrets, maybe she didn’t. Why then did he want to save her?

“Frodo,” it was Pearl, Pippin’s sister. She sat down with him. “I know what it’s like to lose someone, to lose a friend.”

“What does it feel like?” Frodo felt his insides moving all over the place. Why had he asked this question, when there were others –

“Frodo, maybe you need to talk to someone. Someone who could help you.” Pearl lowered her head, admitting calmly, “I know it’s hard, and I know it feels like we forget our friends, but…” she smiled softly, “…even when they’re gone and far away, somehow they come back to us, in thought and in memory.”

“Memory?” Frodo looked at Pearl then. Understanding crossed his eyes. Of course, Mairon’s diary, but how… the diary showed him a memory… but the diary was gone… it was… no. Aria had the diary? Down in the Chamber? It sounded crazy, but then it was a crazy night. He stood up, thinking he lost his mind. “I’ll see you later.”

“As you wish,” Pearl told him.

Frodo looked back at her. She looked so helpless. He was torn: stay with Pearl or help Aria… he chose the latter and zipped out of the door, down the stairs, before he had second thoughts. He didn’t need to turn invisible this time, for the staff was running around the place, hectic and fearful of what would happen next. He made it into the Authors and Authoresses’ Chambers without a synch. And Sam was right there, waiting for him by the door to Sindri’s office.

“Sam, you’re here,” Frodo said, catching his breath.

“Before you say anything, I…” Sam was interrupted by Frodo, who told him:

“Let’s go!” Frodo plummeted into Sindri’s office. The sun was setting lower in the sky. As for Sindri, Frodo couldn’t believe it. “Where are you going, professor?”

“Well…” Sindri hesitated, “as you see, I’ve got to go. Big day tomorrow.”

“You’re not goin’ to help Miss Aria!” Sam cried.

“My business, my blunder. Excuse me,” Sindri said, heading towards the door. Frodo blocked his path.

“You can’t leave!” Frodo called, trying to keep his voice even, “What about those adventures you wrote?”

“Experimental,” the dwarf told him.

“They’re your works, your adventures. The truth is right there in the…” Frodo was cut off by the dwarf, who clearly had more to say.

“Frodo, my lad, do you not understand.” Sindri explained, “All those adventures I went on – I didn’t go on. They were other dwarves’ adventures. I was merely there, writing their experiences, which should have been rightfully mine.”

“You’re a fraud!” Frodo accused. “You took works from other dwarves?” He spoke calmer, but just as unforgiving, “How dare you. How do you call yourself a dwarf?”

“Can’t you do anything original?” Sam dared to ask the dwarf.

“Well, I may not have Lockhart’s talent for memory charms, but I do know how to absorb and control magic. Otherwise, all those dwarves would have told was the truth of their adventures, and I wouldn’t have a scrap of it.” Sindri searched for his wand, “and it seems I will have to do the same to you two, if you try…”

“ _Expelliarmus!_ ” Frodo cried, watching Sindri’s wand fly right into his hand. Inside, Frodo sighed in relief. If Snape taught him one thing that year, it was Expelliarmus. And a good thing, too, for Sindri had no choice, but to follow them to the Chamber of Secrets.

“Boys, I don’t know where the Chamber of Secrets is. Even if I could…” Sindri was stuttering.

“Lucky for you, we do. Come on,” Frodo said, as Sam let Sindri lead them first out of his office and down a shortcut leading directly to Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom. Frodo looked around, once Sindri and Sam had left the portrait hole: the bathroom was still the same. Frodo smiled at Harry, as he, Ron and Lockhart reached the bathroom at the same time. “See you’ve brought Lockhart.”

“Had to. He was about to leave,” Ron said, as Frodo, Sam and Sindri joined them on the other side.

As they were in Myrtle’s bathroom, Moaning Myrtle explained how she died: that a boy picked on her about her glasses and she ran into the bathroom to be alone. As she was crying, she heard a boy speaking in strange language. When she unlocked the door to tell him to use his own bathroom, she died. Harry asked her how, at which Myrtle explained that she saw a great big pair of yellow eyes over by one of the sinks, the sink that didn’t work.

Harry understood that this sink was the gateway to the Chamber of Secrets. At first, the sink wouldn’t open. Then he spoke in Parseltongue and it worked, and just him alone. He didn’t understand why only he could open it when… he gave up on the thought. Before Lockhart left the bathroom, Ron gave Lockhart a push and their DADA teacher fell into the entrance. He was okay, but he wasn’t the only one who didn’t want to leave.

“Um… you boys don’t need me now…” Sindri attempted to leave, until Frodo and Sam pointed their wands at him. They led the dwarf right back to the entrance. “Um… are you sure this is for the best…” Sam pushed him a little, but just that much sent Sindri down the gaping entrance.

Harry went next, followed by Frodo, then Sam and Ron last. The journey down was a slippery dark slide. There were pipes to be seen on either side, stretching out and expanding in different directions. When the pipe leveled out, Harry and Frodo landed sprawled on the floor, Sam and Ron whizzed out behind them.

Frodo clambered to his feet on the damp floor. Following Harry’s advice about movement in the air, Frodo followed him through the first tunnel. It was dark to see in a lot of places, with the moonlight creeping in at some places. At least he could hear Sam and Ron leading Lockhart and Sindri behind them. That was when he spotted the skin. Like him, Frodo wandered close to Harry to check it out, only to look back at Lockhart and Sindri, who had grabbed Ron and Sam’s wands.

“You know, I was going to point out what would happen when we reach a paradox in time and space, but this is so much better.” Sindri turned a wicked grin in Frodo’s direction, “So here’s to the end of the R…” Just then, the dwarf’s wand absorbed Lockhart’s spell, absorbing it inside himself.

A loud bang against the wall and a snap of a twig, the wall collapsed. Frodo and Harry were trapped on the other side. Frodo was astonished and nearly caught in a daze.

“Sam! Are you okay, Sam?!” Frodo asked through the crack. He was glad Harry let him see through the opening.

“I’m fine, but Sindri broke my wand!” Sam announced.

“We’ll stay and shift some of this rock!” Ron answered.

“Frodo and I will go on. If we’re not back in an hour…” Harry paused. Frodo understood. They had to find Ginny and Aria, who had already been down in the Chamber for hours.

The tunnel turned and turned again. As they inched closer, Frodo could feel his blood grow colder. But he wasn’t about to give up on Harry, or Ginny, or Aria. And while Ron and Sam shifted the rock in the distant background, before Frodo and Harry rested a huge stone wall with two giant stone serpents encasing the other side. These stone serpents felt alive.

“ _Open_ ,” Harry said, his words hissing.

The serpents parted and the wall opened, allowing Harry and Frodo passage through to the next room. They wasted no time, as they shakily walked inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All right, so the idea for me being in the Chamber of Secrets with Ginny was LOTCR’s idea. I think it is a good idea, so we can bring Sam in on the journey with Frodo. Just figured, I might as well start bringing in more of Frodo’s hobbit friends. With that said, thanks for reading. :) More is to come and finding out who are the Heirs of Slytherin…


	24. The Heirs of Slytherin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimers:** All material from The Lord of the Rings trilogy belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien and New Line Cinema. All material and passages from the Harry Potter series belongs to J.K. Rowling and Warner Brothers. All original material belongs to the author of this fanfiction story.
> 
>  **Acknowledgements:** Thanks goes to TooLazyToLogIn for sparking the idea for this series. Thanks also goes to SweetDarkSilence, ValueMyHeart, DoctorWhovian18 and LOTCR for their ideas, support, participation, etc.

Frodo and Harry were in a dark, dimly lit chamber. Stone pillars with snake heads supported a ceiling that was dark, casting off dark shadows and a greenish glow. Frodo pulled out his wand a tiny moment after Harry, following him down the path that lay between the serpentine columns. But with each careful step they took, their footstep echoed loudly off the walls. At last, they drew level with a pillars to meet a gigantic stone statue of a face that was serpentine and monkey, with a beard hanging low towards its feet. Between the feet were two black-robed figures: one with flaming red hair and the other brunette.

“Aria?” Frodo cried, rushing over to her. Her eyes were closed, she looked like marble and was cold. Frodo wanted to do something for her, but what? At least she wasn’t petrified and was still breathing. “Aria, please wake up. Please…” Frodo couldn’t do this again. “…please. Not you too. I can’t lose you, too.” He called again. “Aria.”

“Aria woke wake, Frodo Baggins,” said a livid voice. Frodo turned to see a tall, angelic figure stand before him. This figure had dark hair and certainly looked boyish. No. It was the figure he had seen in the memory fifty years ago.

How did he look so young?

“Mairon, it can’t be you,” Frodo was stunned.

“Oh, but it is.” Mairon was confident in his steps.

By this time, Tom Riddle approached Harry Potter. Only then, Frodo felt a gasp of white light surround him, Aria and Mairon himself. They were trapped in this light, away from prying eyes.

“What did you do?” Frodo asked, shocked.

“Now we can talk in private, away from prying eyes.” Mairon’s gaze fell on Aria and a little black diary. “And this diary will make me stronger, as long as I have you two in here, in my grasp.”

“How – how are you here?” Frodo asked. “How did Aria –” He could feel his strength weakening.

“Now that is a long tale, but first and foremost, I am a memory, preserved in a diary for fifty years.” Mairon spun his tale. “At first, I didn’t think anyone would claim me. But then, by mere chance or haste, it fell into the hands of your girlfriend Aria. You see, Aria started pouring her tales and adventures into my story, including how she helped you defeat me in the Chamber with the Philosopher’s Stone.

“I learned everything there was to know about you and Aria. Until at last, I started pouring my soul back into her. I became stronger, while at the same time giving her breathing room. You see, eventually she set the basilisk on that dear sweet hobbit lass, who as chance would have it is also called Myrtle. And when she gave the diary away, threw it in the toilet, somehow it landed to you. The very hobbit I was most anxious to meet…” Mairon added, sinisterly, “In case you are wondering, we are locked in a time and space where I can tell you everything about yourself and your future self.”

“What… AH!” Frodo felt another sharp pang in his heart.

Mairon didn’t care. “But I was eager to learn about you, before I set Aria on that Halfling. So, in order to gain your trust, I showed you how Tom and me captured that oaf Hagrid to gain your trust.”

“Hagrid’s my friend, as he is Harry’s!” Frodo hissed. “You two framed him. Why?”

“To keep an oath, one that was so close to being broken. Dumbledore thought he was innocent,” Mairon lowered his voice.

“And I bet he didn’t take it lightly,” Frodo grinned in admiration.

“Well, he certainly kept a close eye on me and Tom. And yet the Chamber was sealed, until the time when Tom and me would finish what Salazar Slytherin begun,” Mairon said with pride.

Frodo peered over at the diary. A bloody-inked fang entered the lighted area, landing in front of it. Frodo looked up again, but Mairon was distracted in his speech. Frodo did his best to show bravery, “Well, your work’s not finished yet.”

“No, you’re right.” Mairon looked at the thirteen-year-old hobbit boy once more. “My latest prey has been you. How do you think the greatest Maiar next to Melkor is when he is beaten by a mere Halfling, who destroyed a Ring of Power? How is it that you escaped when Sauron didn’t?”

“Sauron was destroyed. I didn’t…” Frodo asked, cowering a little. He looked up at the bubble ceiling, only to find the universe sweeping across it. His hand held the fang and the diary.

“Sauron is me,” Mairon moved up and around the lighted portion of the room and damp floor. “And I am Sauron.” He swept his hand along the wall, to reveal parts of his life, including how he forged the Rings of Power. Frodo understood when the memory reached his time in the Chamber and finding the Philosopher’s Stone with Harry.

“No. It couldn’t be you. Sauron,” Frodo said, stunned.

“Yes, the shape-shifter that I am. There are ways for a Dark Lord of Middle-earth to be connected to the Heir of Slytherin. And while Tom Riddle sends the Basilisk in after your precious friend. I will have you and Aria…” Mairon was cut off a blown hole in the bubble.

Remembering for a split second what he was about to do, Frodo set the diary down and jabbed it’s cover with the fang. Ink splattered from it, jetting out in a way that it flew all over the place. Frodo gazed up at Mairon, only to see him and the bubble they were in destroyed. A burst of light shown through, upon which Frodo jumped backwards on his rear, his strength returned fully, right next to Aria.

Mairon was gone, and the diary was still there, damaged and no longer useable by anyone. Frodo looked around. Harry and Ginny were talking, the Basilisk was dead, and Aria was awake and trembling. Fawkes cried out above their heads. Frodo turned to Aria, who looked like she had a huge confession to make.

“Frodo, I’m sorry. I should have told you… I was going to tell you at breakfast, but I couldn’t – it was me, I set the basilisk on Myrtle Burrows, I wrote that second message, I avoided you due to the diary. I messed up.” Aria looked at him, sincerely and truthfully. “It was just so hard keeping it quiet. This has to be the worst year for authors and authoresses.”

Frodo chuckled. “It’s all right. Mairon told me what I will be in the future, to him. I know I’m a Ring-bearer. I don’t think that’s what you wanted to hear.”

“It is a shock,” Aria said, near gasping. “Does this mean we’re friends again?”

“I think we’re even,” Frodo added, “and yes, we’re friends again.” He looked back at Harry, as Fawkes leaned over on his arm and dripped tears on it. Frodo asked him and Ginny, “Are you two all right?”

“I’m better now,” Ginny said.

“Phoenixes have healing powers.” Harry told Fawkes, happily, “Thanks.” He admitted to his three friends, “It’s all right now. It’s over. It’s just a memory.” He told them, “Now, let’s get out of here.”

“But I’m going to be expelled,” Ginny whimpered.

“Me too.” Aria said, directly to Frodo as they ran out of the Chamber, “The Authors and Authoresses will kill me when they find out you know who your future self will be. My friends – your friends – they’ll…”

“Just come on,” Frodo said, eager to leave the Chamber.

They had made it past the long, dark tunnel to find Ron and Sam left a sizeable gap to the Chamber entrance. And there Frodo and Harry were with Aria and Ginny. Ron and Sam explained that Lockhart and Sindri lost their memories, hardly remember who they were or where they had been.

“You know, I quite like rocky places.” Sindri looked up at Sam, mesmerized, “And you are quite the hobbit, aren’t you?”

“Mr. Frodo!” Sam asked, not liking the awkward state.

Frodo suggested, “Look, if Fawkes can handle all of us, we can make this in one trip. If he can’t…”

“Look, why don’t you, Sam, Aria and Sindri take the first trip. We’ll go next,” Harry suggested.

“I like that idea,” Aria said.

“All right. Fawkes can go in and get the rest of you next,” Frodo said, agreeing to the idea either way.

So Fawkes carried Sindri first, with Sam holding onto his leg, Frodo holding his leg next while carrying Aria. Frodo felt his hair whipping through him. Oh, how he missed riding a broom. It wasn’t an easy trip and soon enough they were back in Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom. Once they were back in the bathroom, Fawkes dived in to grab the others. They all landed in a heap, with Fawkes flapping around in the air.

Myrtle squealed in delight: “You’re alive.”

“I think Myrtle likes you, Frodo,” Aria announced, giggling slightly while Ginny was crying.

“You really are a fangirl, aren’t you?” Frodo joked.

“Where are you taking us to now, Fawkes?” Harry asked. Just then, he and the others strode right to Professor McGonagall’s office. Harry knocked and pushed open the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. :) We’re closer now to the end of the story…


	25. Kanker's Prize

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimers:** All material from The Lord of the Rings trilogy belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien and New Line Cinema. All material from the Harry Potter series belongs to J.K. Rowling and Warner Brothers. All original material belongs to the author of this fanfiction story.
> 
>  **Acknowledgements:** Thanks goes to TooLazyToLogIn for sparking the idea that started this series. Thanks also goes to my friends SweetDarkSilence, ValueMyHeart, DoctorWhovian18 and LOTCR for their ideas, support, participation in this story, etc.

Inside Professor McGonagall’s office stood Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, McGonagall, Dumbledore and the Heads of Authors and Authoresses. They were pleased to see Ginny and Aria, but stunned when Harry told them about the Chamber, hearing the voices and, with help from Dumbledore, how Voldemort and Sauron’s diaries ended up in Aria and Ginny’s grasp.

“But I was writing in Sauron’s diary. I didn’t know…” Aria squawked.

“And this is why we tell authors and authoresses to be careful about using books that are enchanted,” the Head of Authors proclaimed.

“Miss Weasley and Miss Breuer will not be punished,” Dumbledore said.

Harry and Frodo went on to tell the Headmaster about Lockhart and Sindri losing their memories down in the Chamber. Frodo added that he heard the voices, too, as did Sam and Aria, revealing that they had also heard the Basilisk in the walls. Dumbledore was convinced.

“Frodo, you are reinstated as this authoress’ hobbit,” the Head of Authors said, but not before adding, “If you wish to visit the Authors and Authoresses’ campus this summer, you are more than welcome to come. You have our deepest gratitude.”

“Sauron said I was a Ring-bearer in the future. Does that mean… time is going to screw up, end up in a paradox,” Frodo asked, concerned.

“Frodo, we’re already living in an altered timeline. Anything that happened before or is happening now is already being recorded elsewhere,” the Headmistress of the Authoresses stated. She sighed slowly, “You are more than welcome to read ‘The Lord of the Rings’, if you choose, but I must tell you that your timeline is already shifted, due to Sauron’s arrogance.” She turned to Aria, “Come now, Miss Aria.”

“So I guess I can read the books now?” Frodo asked her, chipper. He received a knowing expression from Aria, but only in silence. It was enough.

“Please Mr. Weasley and Mr. Gamgee, take Lockhart and Sindri to Madam Pomfrey.” Dumbledore spoke next to Harry and Frodo, “Mr. Potter, Mr. Baggins, may I speak with you two alone.” He waited until the door closed to speak further to them. “First, I want to thank you both. You must have shown me real loyalty down in the chamber. That is how Fawkes came to see you. Second, I sense that something is on your minds, am I right?”

“What I’d like to know is how Sauron and Voldemort are connected. Sauron didn’t say,” Frodo asked.

“Yes, of course. They are connected in only the manner that villains know. Because Sauron shape-shits into serpents, he can be easily misinterpreted as one of the Heirs of Slytherin. Not by chance, but it’s just a coincidence,” Dumbledore explained.

“But it doesn’t explain how me, Sam and Aria could hear the basilisk. Is there an explanation for it? Does it have something to do with us being Ring-bearers?” Frodo asked, curious.

“It does, in many ways. But yes, sometime in the future, the three of you will come across a variety of rings, rings of power. It explains why you heard the basilisk, why the Sorting Hat nearly placed you in Slytherin.” Dumbledore admitted, “And yet, you three are not Sauron. You are yourselves, who come across powerful objects.” He said next, “What lies in store for you next remains to be seen. If anything, you have your own magic, Frodo, as do all authors, authoresses and hobbits. Aria will come into her own powers, if not soon. But it is our choices that define us, not only by fate’s means. Know that, Frodo. You are still you, in any timeline you come across in.”

Silence fell. Frodo was starting to understand. And yet, there was so much he didn’t know. His thoughts were interrupted shortly after Harry’s conversation with Dumbledore. Barging into the room were Lucius Malfoy and Otho. Just behind Lucius was Dobby, and behind Otho was Kanker.

“Kanker, of course. Your masters are the Sackville-Bagginses,” Frodo announced.

“Um… yes,” Kanker squeaked.

“Good evening, Lucius. Good evening, Otho,” Dumbledore said.

“Good evening.” Otho stammered. “Good evening.” He admitted, “So, you are back.”

“Yes, so it would seem,” Dumbledore said further. He went on to explain to Otho and Lucius that he was back, due to the governors’ fears that they would curse their families if they didn’t agree to suspend him. He added that Voldemort and Sauron were responsible for the attacks, just like last time, only this time by means of two diaries, that it was Frodo, Harry, Ron and Sam who discovered it.

“Otho, you did give Aria that diary. I saw you.” Frodo passed to him a sock he produced through magic. “Here.”

“I don’t want this,” Otho said, throwing it down in front of Kanker’s feet.

“Master gave Kanker a sock, and now Kanker is free,” Kanker said in delight.

“Two things lost!” Otho sneered at Frodo. “You will pay for this. I lose my servant, lost my book. Dumbledore can have that book. But I will get you back for this, Baggins. Mark my words, boy.”

“Otho, I saw you put that diary into Aria’s cauldron, at Flourish and Blotts. If you fail to remember, ask her about it,” Frodo told him. “I’m sure she can tell you enough.”

“You’ll get this, Baggins,” with that, Otho was out the door.

Just after Lucius Malfoy left with Dobby, Harry sparked a similar idea from Frodo. He asked Dumbledore if he could give Lucius back his diary, at which Dumbledore approved. Harry looked at Frodo, briefly, telling him, “Thanks for the idea.”

“You’re welcome,” Frodo said, returning his gaze to Kanker.

“Frodo Baggins freed Kanker. Kanker will ever be in Frodo Baggins’ debt,” Kanker said, jumping up and down in happiness.

“Just please don’t try and save my life again, not in the manner you chose, Kanker,” Frodo said.

“Kanker will be grateful to Frodo Baggins,” with that, Kanker disappeared in a flash of light and dust.

“Now Frodo, I do believe there is a feast you will not soon want to miss,” Dumbledore said. That was Frodo’s clue to head out of McGonagall’s office.

-.-.-

This feast was different this year, due to everyone in their pajamas and congratulating Harry, Ron, Frodo and Sam on a job well done. Everyone who was petrified was back and cheering them on. Minto came over and gave Frodo a few bear hugs, but then so did Myrtle Burrows – which was highly embarrassing for Frodo, since he wasn’t used to girls hugging him. But then it was just as weird when Hermione did the same thing.

Harry and Ron won Gryffindor house four hundred points - allowing Gryffindor to win the House Cup for the second year running, with a steady two hundred from Frodo and Sam altogether, earning them points just as much to make them heroes of Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff houses. Exams were canceled, but so was Defense Against the Dark Arts canceled. Lockhart and Sindri would not be teaching next year, as they needed to get their memories back.

The authors and authoresses were reinstated as the authors and authoresses of the hobbits, witches and wizards. Other news was pending on the fate of the timeline and other such matters. But for now, it was enough that Aria was once again Frodo’s authoress.

And yet, Frodo couldn’t stop staring at Aria and Pearl. They were both beautiful… wait. Just what was wrong with him? Well, maybe it wouldn’t hurt to prank them, before the year was officially ended.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. :) We’re almost done. :)


	26. One Last Prank

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimers:** All material from The Lord of the Rings trilogy belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien and New Line Cinema. All material from the Harry Potter series belongs to J.K. Rowling and Warner Brothers. All original material belongs to the author of this fanfiction story.
> 
> So the first prank becomes the final prank for this story. Honestly, it wasn’t what I was expecting, but then I’ve been waiting so long to hear this prank… all right, let’s just get it done and over with. :) This prank was more inspired by the Boy Meets World Season 2 Episode 18 “By Hook or By Crook”.

News spread quickly throughout the school that Lucius Malfoy and Otho Sackville-Baggins were sacked from being the school governors. Draco Malfoy and Lotho Sackville-Baggins were no longer strutting about the castle like that used to.

Term resumed as its cheerful pace. However, Aria could not find Frodo. But then neither could Pearl, who was distraught.

“Where is Frodo? He usually visits you, doesn’t he,” Pearl asked, looking outraged.

“Why are you worried about him?” Aria dared to ask.

Pearl gasped. She spoke more calmly, “Well…” She huffed. “All right. Let’s go find Frodo together.”

“You won’t need to look for him long. I’m sure he’s in the Ravenclaw common room, waiting for you both.” Pippin declared, “That’s where he is right now.”

“Why? He’s missing lunch,” Aria admitted.

“Well then, you had better hurry,” Pippin winked at her.

“Come on, Aria,” Pearl said, leading the way.

Aria trampled on, determined to get to the bottom of this. By the time she reached the Ravenclaw common room, she found Pearl moving towards Frodo. He seemed to be sleeping on the couch. Aria stopped. Should she disturb him? But it wasn’t like her not to make herself known. Pitying him, she approached, only to jump back into a chair when Frodo awoke, wide awake and everything. Aria wasn’t alone, for Pearl was just as dazed.

“Missed me?” Frodo asked, smiling.

“Frodo, you scared us!” Pearl said, not amused.

“Call it an ‘end of the year’ prank.” Frodo chuckled. “I wasn’t asleep. I’m glad Pippin called you both here.”

“Why is that?” Aria asked, curious.

“Humph!” Pearl crossed her arms.

“No, but really. You two are special in your own way.” Frodo’s heart raced inside his chest. “You’re fantastic, brave and true. Just don’t get yourselves in a fuss over me.”

“What prank did you use?” Aria asked, curious and calm.

“Snooze You Lose.” Frodo admitted, “I thought I would use it on someone.”

“Well, you did a good job at it,” Aria said, smiling.

“Well, I didn’t approve,” Pearl said, shocked. She walked out of the Ravenclaw tower, heading downstairs to lunch.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you everything, Frodo,” Aria said, getting Frodo’s attention. “I don’t know what else to say.”

“Maybe sometime I’ll read ‘The Lord of the Rings’,” Frodo told her, calmly.

“Really? But what about…”

“I was given permission, remember?”

“Of course. Would you like to read it now?” Aria said, nearly getting up.

“Wait a minute. Come here,” Frodo gestured to her with his hand.

“Um… Frodo, maybe I should…”

“No, come here. You’re brave, aren’t you?” Frodo asked her.

“Frodo, this isn’t the time…”

“What are you afraid of? We’ve been on two adventures, and you don’t have the heart to sit down on the same couch as me.” Frodo’s eyebrows furrows. “Man, that sounds weird.”

“It is… weird, Frodo. Shouldn’t we head downstairs to lunch?” Aria asked.

“Why are you avoiding the question?” Frodo smiled at her.

“All right. I’m joining you now.” Aria said, taking a seat on the couch. She felt weird there. Even though they were friends… his arm resting against her shoulders felt nice… and weird.

“Now. Isn’t this better?” Frodo asked, cheerful.

“I’ve gotta go,” Aria said, squirming away from him.

Frodo sighed. That felt nice, but also weird. He flew out of the common room a moment later, doing his best to just walk side by side with Aria. He wanted to touch her hand… no, he shouldn’t. Boy, what was wrong with him? Unaware to him, Aria felt the same.

o-o-o

Too soon the term ended and it was time to head on the Hogwarts Express. Frodo, Aria, Sam, Merry and Pippin chose a compartment together. Their other friends were wandering about the train. So far, Amy and Abigail pulled off a few more pranks on the train home. Anne and SweetDarkSilence chose a compartment all to themselves, but close enough to keep watch of their fellow authors and authoresses. Harry, Ron, Hermione, Fred, George and Ginny chose a compartment right next door to Frodo, which was nice for them. As for Fatty and Folco…

“So what were you trying to tell us?” Frodo asked Aria.

“Folco has a girlfriend. He won’t tell me who it is, but Fatty’s been keeping quiet about it. They even swore me to secrecy, but I couldn’t resist.” Aria looked at Merry and Pippin, asking them, “You won’t tell anyone about it, will you?”

“Oh no,” Merry and Pippin said, in mock humor.

“Aria, I’m sure we’ll find out sooner or later,” Frodo admitted.

“All right,” Aria said.

“Well, I’m sure Merry will tell you…”

“Shush! Pippin,” Merry was serious.

“Tell us what?” Frodo asked, curious.

“It’s nothing.” Merry confessed a moment later, “Are you and Aria… dating?”

“What?” Frodo and Aria asked, bewildered.

“Well, it’s just this year and last year, you two were hanging out.” Pippin admitted, “And now Sam has run off on adventures, too.”

“Pippin and I wondered when our next adventure will be,” Merry asked, curious.

“I’m sure you two will have an adventure,” Sam said.

“Yeah,” Frodo chuckled. He was grateful to have his friends with him. Nothing could make the trip go by faster than his friends to aide him…

As the train neared King’s Cross, something else entered Frodo’s thoughts. He told Aria about it, “Aria…” But could he admit it to her. It was probably too soon. “You look beautiful.”

“Thanks,” Aria said. She wanted to say something, too. “Frodo, don’t change. Not even with what’s to come.”

“I’m sure what’s to come has been altered,” Frodo admitted.

“Just please stay the same,” she said.

“How do I do that?” he asked her.

“Huh,” she admitted. “I don’t know. She said, “You have to go back home, don’t you?”

“Yeah. To my aunt and uncle’s house,” Frodo said. “Why?”

“Well, maybe this year, you can come and stay at the Authors and Authoresses’ Campus. The housing district I’m at, I’m sure they’d let you come,” she exclaimed. “It would be nice to see you there, Frodo.”

“Well, maybe this year I will, since I’ve been given permission and all that,” he repeated.

“Right,” she said.

Yes, it would be nice for him to come and see Aria. Maybe… no, what was he thinking? Frodo smiled at her. In a way, this would be one way to…

“Time to go, Mr. Frodo,” Sam said, snapping Frodo out of his reverie.

“It is indeed,” Frodo said, following his friends through the gateway, leading back to their worlds. There was only one gateway this year, but from that area, Frodo found himself back at Brandy Hall. He was greeted by Uncle Saradoc and Aunt Esmeralda, who were ready to hear about his adventures at Hogwarts.

Frodo sighed. He was happy to be home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And with that ends Book Two of the Hobbit Wizards series.
> 
> I can thank enough TooLazyToLogIn for sparking the idea that began this series. Thanks also goes to ValueMyHeart, SweetDarkSilence, DoctorWhovian18 and LOTCR for their support, participation, ideas, etc. Thanks also goes out to all the readers who read, reviewed, favorited and followed this story right to the very end. :)
> 
> Now with Book 3, I’m still deciding on the plot, title, etc. When that’s decided, you will know. For the rest of the series, feel free to follow it and read it over on AO3 or Archive Of Our Own.
> 
> Until next time, readers. :)
> 
> Aria Breuer


End file.
